The Cripple and the Handmaiden
by MarcelinexAbadeer
Summary: What if the Kingslayer came across a beautiful young handmaiden during his stay at Harrenhal who made him question whether he wanted to return to King's Landing, and more importantly, to his beloved Cersei? The following story is a re-imagining of events taken place during Jaime Lannister's stay at Harrenhal with Roose Bolton; S3/GOT. [JaimexOC]
1. Bathtime Confessions

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. If any circumstances seem familiar, the fact that I am a huge fan of Game of Thrones (TV Show) and A Song of Ice and Fire (Book Series) likely have everything to do with that. However, there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belongs to those parties and those parties alone. 

**xxx Chapter I: Bathtime Confessions xxx**

"Get me out of these fucking rags," A rough, irritable voice rang from the bath chambers.

At this, Maralynn Thaller raised her eyes from the damp stone floor she'd been scrubbing, pulling the skirt of her work dress down while simultaneously using the back of her hand to brush loose strands of hair from her face. The young handmaiden had indeed heard of Ser Jaime Lannister's arrival in Harrenhal hours previous, and had been told to stand watch outside his chambers in order to tend to the eldest Lannister's needs. While this command had surprised her due to Lord Bolton's frequent desire to keep Maralynn to himself, she did not hesitate when being told to do so.

Although young, the handmaiden of Harrenhal was anything but naive, and she was no fool as to why Lord Bolton kept her so close. He liked to watch her work, liked to watch her sweat; liked to watch her do anything really. Once or twice Maralynn had even caught him leaning in to indulge in the scent of her hair while she was bent over tending to the fire place in his bedroom. Lord Bolton was a proud man who would never admit to it, but he had desires apart from tending to the battlefield that needed to be fulfilled; and although he had never tried anything, Maralynn constantly felt the man's eyes on her as she moved throughout the castle.

Maralynn, known to her friends and family as Mara, grew up on a horse farm a few thousand meters south of Winterfell. Her mother and father were poor and held nothing to their name, and when they died in the spring three years ago they'd left their daughter with nothing either. With nowhere else to go, Mara was able to scrape by for a couple of years by working in a farmer's market in one of Winterfell's adjoining villages, but then turned to working in a brothel once the War of the Five Kings had driven away business. Although Mara certainly possessed the beauty and talents to please every man who visited the whore house, she grew degraded and tiresome of it rather quickly and soon departed from that occupation as well. The young handmaiden then came into the employ of House Bolton during the Sack of Winterfell months previous. Mara had been with House Bolton only two weeks when Roose was anointed Head of Harrenhal, and had traveled to the castle along with the rest of House Bolton's staff to tend to their Lord Master.

"You've never seen a cripple before?" Jaime drawled, finally turning his head to look at the figure that stood in the doorway.

Slightly taken by surprise, the Kingslayer hesitated as he took in the vision that stood before him. He had not been expecting a woman to tend to his needs, and instead figured Bolton would toss in the feeble old coot who had led him into Harrenhal by his horse. This though…this _woman_. Her dark brown hair fell in loose curls down to the middle of her slender back. Her skin was olive toned and tanned, which led him to believe she was a woman who had traveled; a woman who knew much about the world despite her youth. Her lips were plump and rose colored, breasts full and stomach lean. Of all these features however, he could not stop looking at her eyes. Dark and brown as molten chocolate, yet somehow filled with such undeniable light. He couldn't help but feel a small fraction of gratitude toward Bolton for allowing him something so beautiful to look upon after all he'd been through.

"I've seen worse," Mara replied cooly, her dark hues taking in Jaime's disheveled appearance.

Jaime Lannister had a reputation that far preceded him; Knight of the King's Guard, the eldest son of Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Protector of the Realm. Handsome, charming, yet also exceedingly arrogant; all things one would expect from royalty. As it was, Mara's experience with royalty was nonexistent and she had never played the part of an ignorant, doe-eyed girl who obsessed over the chance to come into the presence of any. Additionally, Mara's father had been a loyal banner man to House Stark. In years past she had never had a foul thought about the Lannister's, and even now she was unsure of what to believe with the current war raging on. So many rumors had been told; Houses divided. The only thing Mara could be certain of was the fact that innocent people were dying, and she had no intention to lay blame on any one person due to the mistakes of others. Until more evidence became clear, until she was convinced that one of these Houses would do right by her people over all others, she would make no claim to any of them.

"Is that so?" Raising an eyebrow, Jaime couldn't help but smirk at the young woman's boldness.

Being a Lannister of Casterly Rock, Jaime had become accustomed to having people kissing his ass on a regular basis. Of course he knew that behind the fake plastered smiles they were all whispering about his betrayal to Aerys II Targaryen; the Mad King. Kingslayer…Oathbreaker…Man Without Honor. Whether this woman knew who he was or not he couldn't be sure; though he had to admit, at least to himself, part of him longed to remain anonymous, to perhaps see how someone would react to who he was as a person rather than who he was by blood and reputation. Why he cared what a lowly handmaiden thought of him…he did not know. Gods, it had been a long journey; not only along the Kingsroad with that great oaf of a woman Brienne, but a long life. Jaime was tired and truly exhausted of feigning a liking to a title he had never wanted in the first place.

Carefully stepping toward Jaime, Mara slid her hands to his broad shoulders, slipping off his filthy coat and dropping it to the floor. Pressing her lips together, she let out a slow breath, avoiding inhaling through her nose as she continued down to his shirt that stank of rotten mildew, her deft fingers working along the top laces before gently raising the dirty, dampened cloth over his head.

"Ahhh…" Jaime groaned softly, not because the handmaiden had purposely caused injury to him, but because he'd had to move his arm as she'd lifted the shirt, causing a sharp pain to shoot down his wrist, stopping just where his right hand would have begun had he still possessed it.

Looking at the place where his right hand used to be, he chuckled bitterly at the bandages covering his flesh and bone. As if a few strands of cloth could hide what lurked so hideously beneath. Jaime's right hand was gone; his glory. Everything he had amounted to was brought to him through that hand. The honor of becoming a Knight of the King's Guard for not one but two kings; as well as the shame that it had brought to him when he'd murdered one.

Glancing at Jaime with eyes full of concern, Mara opened her mouth as if wanting to apologize, but then stubbornly bit down on her bottom lip instead. Sliding her hands down his lean, muscular abdomen, she made to begin on the top button of his trousers, but then abruptly came to a stop.

Sensing her hesitation, Jaime raised his eyebrows as if to challenge her. Mara had lived a life full of men underestimating her, and she would not let Jaime Lannister of all people think himself capable of doing the same thing, no matter whose son he was, what kings he served, or which body parts he had recently lost. Moving her fingers along the top of his waist band, she undid the first few buttons before tugging his trousers down past his hips, keeping her dark eyes on his light ones the entire time.

"There you are," She said simply, taking a step away and averting her gaze to allow him a moment's privacy as he climbed into the heated tub.

All around the room, steam rose in a continuous flow from the great pools of heated water. With one last look at the handmaiden, Jaime stepped out of his trousers and limped over to the nearest tub, slipping one gnarled foot in after the other before allowing the rest of his aching body to follow suit.

Moving his hand along his side, Jaime then went on to probe his ribs with the tips of his fingers, trying not to let the embarrassment of his wounded, malnourished body show on his face. This was the first time in all of Jaime's life that he'd been ashamed by his appearance, and he had Robb and Catelyn Stark to thank for it. Angrily shaking those thoughts of insecurity away, he shot a look of frustration at the handmaiden.

"Well? Do you honestly expect me to take care of **ALL**of this," He gestured with his stump to his overgrown beard, hair and filthy body, "With **ONE** bloody hand?"

Angrily ripping her apron from her skirts, Mara strode forward, her fists clenched at her sides. Picking up a bucket filled with bars of soap, bath cloths, scrub brushes, sponges, and shears, she moved over to Jaime's tub. Kneeling down at his side, her eyes casually glanced over his bare chest and shoulders as she sorted through her supplies.

His chest once strong was now slightly sunken; skin once smooth now littered with cuts and bruises. Although he had certainly endured many hardships over the past year, there was no denying that Jaime Lannister was still a very attractive man. Since she was a child Mara had heard stories, tales and songs of Jaime's beauty and, although somewhat hidden due to his current state, he was still beautiful in every sense of the word.

Clenching his strong jaw, Jaime hesitated as the young handmaiden moved closer. Despite his reputation as a lady charmer there was only one lady he'd ever lain with; only one lady he had ever loved. His twin sister, Cersei. Up until this point no woman, apart from the few maids and wet nurses he'd had growing up, had ever seen him so vulnerable. No, not even his beloved Cersei had seen him in such a manner before. In fact, the thought of his dear sister actually being able to stay in the same room with him for more than a few seconds in his current state was all too humorous. At least, that was what Jaime tried to convince himself of as he glowered down at his stump.

Sensing Jaime's unease, Mara took her time as she dipped a bath cloth into the water, grabbed a bar of soap and began lathering the suds up along the rough material.

"Close your eyes," She instructed softly, to which Jaime hesitated for the briefest of seconds before willingly obeying.

Pressing the bath cloth to his face, Mara gently wiped away the matted blood and dirt that had been collecting in his beard for gods only knew how long. With each swipe of the cloth, she began to glimpse a closer look of the man she knew so well by reputation. Easing her way lower, she made quick work of scrubbing his chest, torso, legs and feet, then moved onto his shoulders and arms. Finally coming to a stop at the stump where his right hand had once been, she looked at him hesitantly.

"You're in a lot of pain," She began, ignoring the slight roll of his eyes that greeted her obvious statement. "I can get the Maester to bring you milk of the poppy…"

"No, thank you," Jaime replied quickly. "I'd prefer to keep my wits about me while under Roose Bolton's roof."

Smirking inspite of his answer, Mara gave a slight nod of her head. "Wise."

Hearing this, Jaime could not help but let the tiniest of smirks reach his own lips. Handmaiden or not, this young woman was obviously well aware of her master's reputation in the Seven Kingdoms. It made him almost proud, to see such a lowly creature taking an interest in the politics that went around the Realm. So many of the handmaidens at King's Landing were dumb and dull as posts, and were only capable of emptying out chamber pots and spreading their legs. This one though, she obviously knew a thing or two about the going's on in Westeros, which in turn meant she likely knew a thing or two about him as well.

Once she had finished washing his body, Mara returned to Jaime's face, combing her fingers through his beard whilst glancing down at the pair of small shears nestled in her bucket.

"Cut it all off," Jaime demanded softly, nodding his ascent.

Over the course of the next several minutes, Mara began to cut away the pieces of wet beard from Jaime's face. Lathering the suds up in her delicate hands, she smeared her palms and fingers along his cheeks then gently followed the path she'd made with the sharp edge of her blade. It occurred to her more than once during the process that, in that moment, she held the Kingslayer completely under her control. She could do anything; slit his throat, end the Lannister's bloody reign against the Starks, Greyjoys and Baratheons; all with one swift slash of her blade...

Studying the handmaiden's eyes, Jaime soon came to realize that she knew exactly who he was. Whether she'd known from the beginning or not he couldn't be sure, but those eyes were too honest to keep this fact hidden from him any longer. His body tensed as the blade made its way down his throat, carving away a bit of stubble that had grown over his Adam's Apple.

As they both held the same moment of understanding, Mara looked away from Jaime's eyes and moved onto his hair. Jaime's usual head of shining golden locks had turned to a murky brownish blonde, most likely obtained from months spent held in captivity in a place where no sun had been able to get through.

"You said you've seen a lot of cripples in your day?" Jaime asked casually, his attempt at small conversation.

"Mmm," Mara nodded, cutting away more of his dark gold hair. "I grew up on a farm with little boys and old men, some of whom couldn't be bothered to learn how to properly yield an axe." Brushing away the fallen pieces of hair that had landed on his collarbone, she continued. "I've seen a lot of bloodshed."

Meeting her eyes once more, Jaime hesitated. From the ominous tone her sweet voice had suddenly taken, he understood that the young handmaiden had seen more than just careless accidents on the farm in her time. She was so young, so beautiful. He wagered around one and eight. Alas, she was nearly two decades younger than him, and had obviously seen much more than she ever should have given her youth.

"What is your name?" Jaime finally found himself asking. He'd been avoiding this question for fear of the woman responding with equal interest in knowing his. Now that he knew she was all too aware of his identity however, his curiosity had overridden his fear.

"Maralynn Thaller," She replied with something of a warm smile. "_Mara_."

For once in his life, Jaime grew speechless. He now knew with complete certainty that Mara had known exactly who he was, had known from the beginning; yet she had looked at him with no judgment in her eyes and had treated him just as any other man who had endured his share of hardships. This was exactly what he'd wanted for quite some time, and she had given him that small courtesy when she owed him nothing at all. For that, he appreciated the young handmaiden. Even more he respected her, and respect was not something given lightly from Jaime Lannister; particularly toward women.

"You can call me Jaime," He said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. No Ser, no M'Lord, no Kingslayer, no Oathbreaker, no Man Without Honor…No. "Just Jaime."

**xxx**

**Author's Note:** This is my first attempt at GOT fanfiction. Please be so kind as to review and let me know how I'm doing! This will encourage the progression of the story.


	2. Kitchen Gossip

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone. (Note: All graphics used will have credit given to their creators.) 

**xxx Chapter II: Kitchen Gossip xxx**

"That Jaime Lannister sure is lookin' more and more like his charmin' old self again," The plump cook Tansy bellowed, nudging one of the other female kitchen workers in the ribs. "Even if he is a cripple!"

"Ah yes, well at least now the Golden Lion knows what it's like for the rest of us," Rand, a stable boy around the same age as Mara grumbled as he limped over to collect a few grapes off a wooden plate. Although he'd never revealed what had caused his injury, Mara had heard stories that he'd been crippled by a group of farmers that he'd stolen several chickens from before coming to work for House Bolton.

"Oi," Tansy growled, slapping his dirty hand. "Those ain't for you!"

Keeping her eyes at level with the roast beef that she had spent the past few minutes carving, Mara set out three plates on the counter: One for Lord Bolton, one for Brienne of Tarth, and one for Jaime. Although there had certainly been some animosity between the two in the beginning of their exchange the previous night, by the time Jaime's bath water had run cold Mara found that there was much more to the eldest Lannister than anyone had ever given him credit for.

That afternoon Lord Bolton would be meeting with the pair to discuss Jaime and Brienne's fates, and the thought alone made Mara's stomach churn. The young handmaiden was not ignorant to the circumstances of which brought Jaime to Harrenhal of course, having heard Bolton's men cackling over the incident with Locke in the woods. Still, surely Bolton would not order his men to bring any further harm to Jaime. He was a Lannister afterall; a man of great importance. If anything more were to happen to him, Tywin Lannister would certainly come to seek revenge for his son; something Lord Bolton, no matter how proud, could not risk. This at least, was what Mara kept telling herself in attempt to soothe her nerves.

Sticking out his tongue, Rand crammed a few more grapes into his mouth. "What happened to the Kingslayer's hand anyway, eh?" He questioned, gobs of red juice sloshing down his chin. "Did that great big dyke of a woman get so tired of traveling with him that she just—" Swiping his hand down on the counter, Rand grinned when he saw that he'd succeeded in making a few of the kitchen wenches jump. "…snapped?"

"No, it was that fool Locke who done it," Tansy muttered, shaking her head. "I dunno why Bolton doesn't just send that dunce to the Crows. They was traveling back to Harrenhal and the Kingslayer got cheeky, so Locke sliced it clean off! S'way I heard it, anyway. Lannister should count himself lucky he didn't lose his tongue along with his sword hand."

Grimacing at the thought, Mara began to cut one of the pieces of meat into smaller portions, her heart suddenly heavy as she imagined Jaime attempting to cut his supper with just one hand.

"A job well done, Mara," Tansy grinned, nodding her approval at the young handmaiden.

"What do you mean?" Mara asked, raising her eyebrows with questioning.

"Well it was you who got our Lion o' Lannister lookin' so fine again, was it not?"

"I didn't have to do much," Mara said with a shrug of her shoulders, quickly earning a smirk of understanding from Tansy.

"You know you may be everyone else's type Mara, with that tight little arse of yours," Smacking her hand down on Mara's backside, the cook howled with laughter as the young handmaiden shot her a nasty glare. "But I think you may have found your match in Jaime Lannister."

Snorting loudly, Rand moved onto a loaf of bread, cutting a burnt end off and shoving it into his mouth. "Too true, you don't look nuffin' like 'em."

Frowning at Tansy and Rand's exchange, Mara rolled her eyes. "What the hell are you two going on about?"

Chuckling knowingly, Rand continued to chew his food with his mouth wide open, soggy flecks of bread flying as he exclaimed, "Cos he's fucking his twin sister, of course!"

"That's just mindless gossip," Mara muttered, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"They started a war over that 'mindless gossip', girl! Don't tell me you're suddenly losing sight of things just cos you got to sneak a peek at the Kingslayer's cock!"

Snatching the plate of bread from Rand, Mara began to furiously carve off three more pieces. Moving on next to the fruit, she ignored the grapes completely, grabbed an apple and began chopping it into fine slices to add to the platter. Scooping up two of the plates, Mara balanced the third on her forearm as she hurriedly left the kitchen, the skirts of her dress swishing behind her as she let the door slam shut.

Ignoring the boisterous cackling that sounded behind her, Mara took a deep breath to collect herself before making her way over to the dining table.

Of course Mara had heard rumors of Jaime Lannister taking his sister Cersei as a lover, but had merely contributed it to low, dirty tactics used by the Baratheons to provide leverage toward their ascent for the Iron Throne. Sisters and brothers had not wed since the Targaryens ruled the Seven Realms, and since then the practice had been outlawed.

Those three children though, with golden hair just like Cersei's…just like Jaime's… No, it couldn't possibly be true. Could it? 

**xxx**

"Good afternoon, Mara," Jaime called from where he stood watching her in the doorway.

To have met the young handmaiden down in the dark, dank bath chambers was a true injustice to her beauty. Now, framed in the sunlight shining from the wide windows in the dining hall, Jaime was able to fully appreciate her grandeur. Had he not known better he would have assumed she came from Dorne, with her dark hair and lovely tanned skin. Of course, she didn't smell anything like the filth that hailed from that part of realm. She was far too sweet.

"I see you took the liberty of cutting my meat for me," He smiled approvingly. Although this was normally something that would have angered Jaime, an act of pity bestowed upon him by a woman so far beneath him, he found it a kind gesture on Mara's part. Lifting a fork from the table, he gently stabbed a piece of roast beef and held it up to her in offering.

"Just trying to be hospitable, Ser," Mara replied with a forced smile, kindly waving away his offer of dining with him.

"Indeed you are," Jaime nodded, placing the meat into his mouth and chewing carefully as he studied her.

Something had changed since their last meeting, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Mara seemed uneasy, almost annoyed at the prospect of having to speak with him, and he didn't like that one bit. Where was the strong woman he'd spent hours talking to the night before? Where was his brazen little handmaiden hiding?

After they'd made with the introductions yesterday, the two had spoken well into the night. Mara had told Jaime stories of growing up on the farm and in return Jaime had shared stories of his childhood; that is the very few he deemed appropriate for sharing. Most involved Tyrion, whom Mara had shown a great interest in meeting. He did however; steer clear of the topic of Cersei.

"Thaller…" Jaime remembered repeating her surname as he stroked his smooth, beardless chin. "I've not heard it before."

"Nor should you have," Mara replied easily, and with that Jaime had instantly received her meaning. Mara had grown up in a life filled with nothing, which in turn, made Jaime want to give her everything.

To not have to think of his prick of a father, the coward Robb Stark, the Baratheon bastard, the mad Targaryen girl…even for just a short length of time…well, it had been a true gift to him; a gift given by someone who owed him nothing. More than that his gift had been getting to know Mara, and although Jaime would not exactly refer to her as a friend, as the Kingslayer had no friends, he _had _begun to fancy her as something of a companion.

Returning to the topic at hand, Jaime cleared his throat. "What's happened?" He demanded, his voice turning sour.

"Happened, Ser?"

Clenching his jaw, Jaime stared at Mara, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and confusion, which he then quickly substituted with anger. She could have called him Kingslayer and it probably wouldn't have stung as much as the title in which she used to address every other man in the castle.

"Don't," He warned her with a shake of his head.

Sensing the raw hurt hidden beneath Jaime's budding anger, Mara quickly looked away as she continued to set the rest of the table.

"_Ser_," Jaime repeated her earlier use of the phrase tauntingly. When he grew frustrated, he grew petty. "Interesting usage for such a lowborn girl; most just refer to me as 'M'Lord' because they're too damn stupid to realize I'm nothing of the sort."

Clutching the remaining dinner cutlery in her hand, Mara shot him an enraged look. "Perhaps you shouldn't judge others' range of knowledge based solely on their upbringing, **_Ser_**."

_Ah, there she is, _Jaime thought silently, a look of fondness gracing his lips.

Before any further words could be exchanged between the two however, Roose Bolton strode into the dining hall with Brienne of Tarth by his side.

"Ah, Maralynn," He nodded his approval at the small feast laid out before him. "Would you be so kind as to fetch our guests some wine?"

With his eyes still on Mara, Jaime clenched the knuckles of his left hand to his palm. The last thing he wanted to do was share a meal with Roose Bolton, but even more so now that he sensed a rage in Mara that was driving him mad. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. Strange, how easily he seemed to forget that his fate was soon to be decided, yet all he could think of was what he could have possibly done to upset the young handmaiden.

With an obedient nod of her head, Mara made off for the kitchens.

"I see my men have finally found you something appropriate to wear," Bolton eyed the ghastly pink dress his soldiers had somehow managed to scurry up for Brienne.

"Yes, most kind of them," Brienne replied smoothly. Taking a seat at the dining table along with Bolton and Jaime, she continued. "You're a Stark banner man, Lord Bolton. I am acting on _Lady Stark's_ orders to return Jaime Lannister to King's Landing…"

Briefly tuning out the conversation, Jaime glanced in the direction of the kitchens. What the bloody hell could he have possibly done to make Mara's attitude toward him change so suddenly? More importantly, why the fuck did he_care_ what she thought of him? Visibly fuming, Jaime took a deep breath to calm himself. Perhaps that was what had gotten his temper so inflamed; the not knowing. Alas, he could not focus on that right now; all he could do was rack his brain for clues. There must have been something said. Yes, that was it, something Mara had overheard. Jaime was no fool, with both his and his family's reputations it could have been any number of things that set her off.

"I should send you back to Robb Stark," Bolton shot at Jaime, a slight sneer on his lips.

Quickly remembering himself, Jaime casually lifted his knife and stabbed at another piece of meat. Bringing it to his lips, he eyed it thoughtfully. "You should, but instead you're sitting here, watching me eat dinner. Why might that be?" Pulling the meat off with his teeth, he chewed slowly while returning his gaze to Bolton.

"Wars cost money. Many people would pay a great deal for you," Bolton replied easily.

"We both know who would pay the most…" Balancing his knife in his left hand, Jaime continued without breaking stride. "Or make **_you_** pay the most if he found out you had captured me and sent me back up north for a summer execution."

"You're right. Perhaps the safest thing to do is to kill you both and burn your bodies."

Sensing Brienne's distress, Jaime glanced to his side as the wench clutched her dinner knife, but then quickly laid his hand over hers.

"It would be, if you honestly believe my father would never find out about it."

"King Robb is keeping your father quite busy. He doesn't have time for anything else."

"He'll make time for you," Jaime replied evenly.

The old bastard put up a good front, but Jaime knew he had him. At the core Roose Bolton was a coward, just like all the rest of the northern men. More importantly, Bolton was wasting Jaime's precious time with useless talk. They both knew what would be decided.

"I will allow you to go to King's Landing as restitution for the mistakes my soldiers made, and you will tell your father the truth; that I had nothing to do with your maiming."

Eyeing Bolton closely, Jaime hesitated. This man was a cunt like the rest of them, but he was smart, cunning. However, his freedom was not the only thing Jaime was willing to bargain for.

As if on cue, Mara returned from the kitchens carrying a pitcher of wine.

Raising his eyes to her, Jaime stood, allowing his hand to graze the small of her back before taking the pitcher from her with ease. "Allow me, my Lady."

Locking her eyes on Jaime's, Mara hesitated. The look on his face had changed since just a few minutes prior. His gaze was no longer wounded but instead amused, almost calculating. What the hell was he playing at?

Leaning across the table, Jaime made to pour Bolton some wine. "Shall we drink on it?"

Quickly leaning forward, Bolton covered his goblet with his hand. "I don't partake."

"You do understand how suspicious that is to ordinary people," Jaime drawled. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued on, filling both his and Brienne's goblets instead. "Very well. However, those oafs you call soldiers did do _quite_ a number on me…" Raising his stump as if to show further proof of this, Jaime slumped back into his chair dramatically. He could tell from the worried look in Bolton's eyes that the man would not object to any request Jaime made if he kept using his missing hand as collateral. "I will require quite a bit more time to rest before I resume my travels."

Ignoring Brienne's obvious discomfort at this notion, Jaime glanced over at Mara whom had since moved to stand behind her Lord Master. He could tell that on the inside she was squirming, but on the outside she remained perfectly composed; ever the dutiful handmaiden. Yes, Jaime had gotten a glimpse of the girl's cheek more than once since they'd met, and the thought that she would lay into him with that same fire after this afternoon's meeting did not fill him with a sense of dread, but rather a carnal desire.

"I will also require certain company throughout my visit…" Jaime glanced at Bolton once more, a knowing look in his eyes.

Quickly understanding, Bolton nodded in agreement. "Yes, well," Pressing his lips together, Jaime could tell the man was visibly annoyed at his request, but would never dare to disagree with it. Glancing over his shoulder at Mara, Bolton continued. "We at Harrenhal will go to whatever lengths necessary to make our guests comfortable."

Leaning back in his chair, Jaime could not help but grin; both from a mixture of pride at watching Bolton squirm under his command, as well as the knowledge that he would now be permitted to spend more time with his lovely little handmaiden.

It didn't matter that Stannis Baratheon had just laid siege to King's Landing. His father and sister were safe, according to Bolton's reports. While Stannis fled back to whatever rock he crawled out from under and the Targaryen bitch made her long journey across the Narrow Sea, the Iron Throne would be safe, and until then, Jaime wasn't going anywhere. 

**xxx**

**Author's Note:** _Oh no, he didn't! _;) Hope you're all enjoying the pairing as much as I'm enjoying writing them. Please be sure to follow and review for more!


	3. Midnight Meetings

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone. (Note: All graphics used will have credit given to their creators.) 

**xxx Chapter III: Midnight Meetings xxx**

"Have you gone completely mad?" Brienne spat, cornering Jaime as he made his way through the front entrance of Harrenhal.

Soon after finishing his meeting with Bolton, Jaime had decided to take a stroll outside the castle walls. At this point, no one was stopping him. Not Bolton, not Locke, nor any of his other pathetic little soldiers. Jaime was a Lannister; he was untouchable, and it was glorious to finally return to his rightful place of high standing. Hours had passed before the Kingslayer finally decided to return to the castle; his newfound freedom tasting far too sweet not to take advantage of.

"You know pink really does suit you," Jaime began, raising his left hand to stroke the fluffy fur collar of Brienne's dress. "You should wear it more often."

Angrily slapping away Jaime's hand, Brienne growled. "Do that again and you'll be completely handless, Kingslayer."

Shrugging his shoulders, Jaime continued down the corridor.

"Why are you doing this? We have to get back to the Capital to collect Sansa Stark and return her to her family. Or have you forgotten your sworn oath to Lady Catelyn along with all the rest?"

Gritting his teeth, Jaime continued his stride despite the annoyance he felt rising within him. The last thing he needed was another person besmirching his honor.

"I gave Catelyn Stark my word, and I will personally see to it that Sansa is returned to her Lady Mother," Taking a left turn down another corridor, Jaime shrugged his shoulders once more. "But why rush?"

"_WHY RUSH_?" Brienne shouted, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Glancing back and forth throughout the halls, Jaime noted that they appeared to be empty, but was not willing to continue this conversation any further until he was absolutely certain. Grabbing Brienne's arm, he pulled her into his bed chambers, swiftly closing the door behind them. Turning to face the woman once more, he raised an eyebrow as he watched her back away to the wall; quickly taking in her surroundings to check for any other possible exits should she need to escape.

"Please," Jaime scoffed at her. "I think we've both spent enough time together to know that I'm not interested."

Watching as she looked away, Jaime noticed the look of hurt in Brienne's expression, but just as soon as it had appeared it was covered by her usual surly pout.

"At the moment, there is no safer place for Sansa Stark than King's Landing," Raising his hand to keep Brienne from interrupting, Jaime proceeded. "If Stannis Baraethon's recent attack isn't a clear indication of that, I don't know what is." Kicking off his boots, he walked over to the window and glanced down into the courtyard. "Besides, my father has not yet been informed of my involvement with Roose Bolton. For all he knows, I'm still rotting away in Robb Stark's camp. He's in no position to allow any harm to come to Sansa. After all, the girl is his only leverage now that her father and sister are out of the picture."

Fuming, Brienne shook her head. "But _why wait_? It's a long way back to King's Landing as it is. Why stay here any longer than we have to now that we've been permitted to leave?"

Glancing off into the distance, Jaime hesitated. He had not yet come up with a reasonable defense as to why he wanted to stay in Harrenhal. He knew the truth of course, but he wasn't about to admit it to Brienne.

In truth, Jaime honestly did not understand his interest in Mara. She was nothing like Cersei. In fact, Cersei and Mara were polar opposites; yet they did share one thing in common. _Passion_. Cersei's passion had always lied in manipulation, being right and overall, her family. Mara's passions…well, Jaime couldn't quite say what the young handmaiden's passions were just yet, but he was willing to risk his life by staying in Harrenhal to discover them.

"This isn't all for that bloody handmaiden, is it?" Brienne asked as if reading his mind, her voice quickly returning to the tone of disgust he recognized all too well.

Moving away from the window, Jaime took a step toward Brienne.

"Do you realize what an incredible position we're in right now?" Sensing her confusion, Jaime sighed with annoyance at having to spell everything out for the woman. "We are in _Roose Bolton's _corridors. He fights for the Starks; he serves as Robb Stark's _right hand man_. If there's anyone who will be able to tell us what the North's next move is; it's him."

"And you think he's just going to willingly hand over that information?"

"Of course not, but there are too many gossiping mouths around this shithole to keep his secrets hidden for long."

Watching as Brienne turned away, Jaime could tell that she was at a crossroads. Although she had claimed to serve no one House, it was clear that she would finally have to put her loyalty to the test.

"I do not intend to return to King's Landing empty handed," Jaime said, glancing down at his right stump, smirking bitterly at the irony. Licking his lips, he continued. "My word to Lady Stark remains solemn, but my family is still at war with hers. I've not forgotten that."

"So this is all for information," Brienne stated in disbelief.

"_Very important information_," Jaime corrected her.

"I won't have any part of it."

"I thought you might say that," Jaime began, moving over to his bed and plopping down on top of it. "By the way, have you heard whose currently visiting King's Landing?" He asked, watching as Brienne tried her best to feign no interest in his answer. Smoothing out the wool blanket beneath him, he cleared his throat. "Margaery Tyrell, Loras Tyrell; the whole bloody lot of Tyrell's, in fact. Word is, she's betrothed to King Joffrey." Watching with slight amusement as Brienne's eyes widened, Jaime nodded. "I told you, there are many gossiping mouths around these parts. With the way Bolton's stable boy talks, I'll know everything I need know in a week's time."

Leaning back against his mattress, Jaime kept his eyes on Brienne. It was cruel what he was doing to her, truly, but he had no other choice. Although he hadn't originally intended to go forth with such motives, now that he spoke of it, a stay at Harrenhal might perhaps give his family everything they needed to win this war.

"In any event, I'm sure she'd be very grateful for any help we might be able to bring to her future husband; as well as to perhaps offer forgiveness for anything that may have happened in the past…"

The sorest spot for Brienne of course, was Renly. Jaime knew that all too well. He was being a complete arse, toying with the woman's emotions like this, but he knew that if anything could seal the deal it would be the possibility of Brienne making things right with Margaery over Renly's untimely death. As treacherous as it was to play on Brienne's guilt, it was all he had.

Jaime could tell from the look in Brienne's eyes that he had given her plenty to think about. Nodding his understanding, he pressed his lips together. "Mull it over, Brienne. Get back to me tomorrow with your answer. I think after all we've been through we both deserve a good night's rest."

With one last look at Jaime, Brienne stubbornly crossed her arms, made her way over to the door, and exited just as quickly as she had entered. While the Kingslayer had indeed brought up many interesting points, Brienne did take note of one very important thing; he never denied that the handmaiden had not been the sole reason behind his sudden interest in staying at Harrenhal. 

**xxx**

"_MARA!"_

Looking up at the sound of her name, Mara gathered the remainder of freshly chopped wood, storing it down in her wooden pail. All day she had gone out of her way to keep her distance from both Lord Bolton and Jaime. After the discussion they'd shared over dinner, it was obvious that she was to act as a ploy in the two men's games; and she wanted absolutely no part in it.

"What is it?" Mara called, cradling the pile of wood against her front as she walked into the kitchens.

Snacking on the dessert left over from the evening meal, Tansy licked a glob of chocolate from her thumb.

"Lord Bolton wishes to speak with you," Tansy announced in a sarcastically important voice, rolling her eyes.

Mara could tell there was a mixture of pity and jealousy in the woman's voice as she said these words. They'd all been around each other long enough to know whom it was Bolton fancied. As far as Mara was concerned however, it was no competition she desired to win. Even now that Mara had left the brothel behind; she was quickly discovering that things were not much different on the outside. Jealousy, lust, manipulation, sex...they ruled the world. When it really came down to it, life was a whore house.

"Do you honestly think that I want this?" Mara asked suddenly, all her pent up frustrations of the day finally rising to the surface. Tilting her head, she stared at Tansy, waiting for another quip or remark, but the woman remained silent. Shaking her head, Mara sighed. She couldn't quite figure out whether this was a good thing, or a bad thing.

Setting the fire wood down next to the hearth, the handmaiden wiped her hands off on her apron before removing it and hanging it up on a hook near the back door. Slowly making her ascent up the stairs, she climbed each step with slow precision. 

**xxx**

"Mara, welcome," Lord Bolton announced, standing up from the chair in front of his fire place as he gestured for her to come inside his corridors.

"Do you need more wood, My Lord?" Mara asked softly, taking a step back as if to return to the kitchens. "I've just collected some, I can go back…"

Shaking his head dismissively, Bolton continued to wave her forward.

"I wanted to speak with you about the events that took place this afternoon."

Turning away, Mara looked everywhere around the room but directly at Bolton. This was exactly the conversation she'd worked so hard to avoid having and now here it was, staring her right in the face.

"You haven't been under my employ for long, Mara, but you're a hard worker and I can respect that."

Remaining silent, Mara listened as Bolton proceeded to praise her in her duties. Although she wasn't exactly sure why he thought it was necessary, the man never having shown her one ounce of gratitude before, she nodded her appreciation. "Thank you, My Lord."

A tense silence remained between them as Mara took note of Bolton watching her. His gaze made her feel uneasy, but she had no choice but to remain standing where she was. He knew exactly what sort of position he was putting her in, and was enjoying every moment of it.

"Jaime Lannister," Bolton began, a sudden look of loathing taking over his features as he leaned back in his chair.

Staring at the fire with a distant expression on his face, Mara hesitated as an unsettling silence persisted. It had been such a long time since Bolton had last spoken, she was beginning to debate whether she should perhaps leave; give him a moment to himself.

Finally breaking the silence, Bolton continued. "I would have hoped he'd learned his lesson about overplaying his…_position_, yet here he is, making his usual demands like a spoiled child."

Another few seconds passed before Bolton made his next move. Eyeing Mara, he watched as she stood before him. The man liked having the handmaiden under his thumb to do with what he pleased, and did not appreciate Jaime Lannister attempting to foil with the rules he had set under his household.

Rising from his chair, Bolton swiftly moved behind Mara, placing his hand over her shoulder and gripping it possessively.

Taking a deep breath, Mara pursed her lips, using every ounce of strength she possessed in resisting the urge to wince as she felt his fingers digging into the back of her neck.

"You will do whatever Ser Jaime asks of you," Moving his other hand to her waist, he then pulled her body close to his, his breathing ragged as he pressed his mouth to her ear. "But you will not forget _who you belong to_."

With nowhere else to look but in front of her, Mara was forced to stare at both her and Lord Bolton's reflections in his armoire as he held her forcefully against himself.

Urging herself not to let her emotions get the best of her, Mara swallowed down the misery she felt swelling in her chest. This had been exactly why she'd left the brothel, to take away temptation from men who felt they could own her. A whore slept with men for money, it was true, but the only thing Mara had ever sold was her body; her dignity was another thing entirely. She would not sell that for a thousand gold dragons; not to the lowly scum from her past, and not to the highborn Lords she had recently become entangled with.

Pressing her lips together, she closed her eyes. She would not give up her dignity, overall else; but for now she could do nothing but pretend this was exactly what she had succumbed to in order to please her Lord Master. Taking another deep breath, Mara willed herself to nod her head obediently.

Once seeing her defeat, Bolton let go of the girl, twisting his fingers around the curled ends of her long hair as a slow smile appeared on his lips. Mara could not remember ever seeing Lord Bolton smile in the past, nor was it a sight she ever wished to see again. 

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **I know you all want more Jaime/Mara, so I made this a short one. Please remember to Favorite, Follow and Review. I love hearing your input! :)


	4. Breakfast Invitation

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone.

**xxx Chapter IV: Breakfast Invitation xxx**

"Here," Tansy muttered, pushing forth a tray filled with heaping piles of steaming breakfast foods.

Slowly, Mara began to arrange the loaves of bread, plates of bacon, bowls of porridge and several different varieties of fruit around the tray. Although the handmaiden was well aware of Jaime Lannister's recent misfortune with the Stark's holding him prisoner, feasting on this amount of food seemed rather excessive; even for a starved man.

"This is all for Ser Jaime?" Mara questioned, glancing up at Tansy.

"It was what he requested, along with you being the one to serve it," Lifting her cup of coffee, Tansy dropped a few sugar cubes in and began to stir it with a plump finger. "Wonder why that might be."

Eyeing the older woman, Mara held her tongue. Tansy had always enjoyed giving Mara a difficult time, but before it had always been in jest; now it was clearly out of spite. The desire to grab a rolling pin and smack the cook against the side of her head had filled the young handmaiden's veins more than once since arriving in the kitchen that morning, but instead Mara clenched her fists to her side and remained silent.

"Quite an appetite, the Kingslayer has," Rand commented, making both Mara and Tansy look up as he entered the kitchen reeking of old, sour manure.

"Where have you been?" Tansy questioned.

"Assistin' Polliver with the prisoners," Smirking, Rand nodded his head enthusiastically. "He needed help holdin'…the…_parts_."

Looking away as the two began to chortle obnoxiously, Mara felt her stomach beginning to churn at the thought of what those poor souls were currently going through. Polliver was known to prolong his torture sessions as long as possible, reaping enjoyment from the terror the other prisoners felt as they watched what took place just outside their cages. On Mara's first night in Harrenhal the screams had kept her up all evening, and had continued to do so every night since.

Collecting the tray of food, Mara pulled it forward, ignoring Tansy and Rand's gazes as she lifted it up and began to make her way towards the stairs.

"You know I heard rumors that you were a whore, Mara," The cook announced suddenly, looking up at the young handmaiden with eyes shining. There was no fondness in them, not anymore. Instead it had been replaced by something cold and dead. "Never thought it was true."

"I did," Rand stated proudly, grinning as he openly eyed Mara's body, ravaging her with his beady eyes.

With her back turned on the pair, Mara closed her eyes, fighting the urge to succumb to her rage and throw the breakfast tray straight at both their heads. Truly, there was nothing she could say in her defense. She could lie and deny it, but why go to all of the trouble? She had been a whore, not for very long, but she'd still slept with men for coin, and if Bolton got his way he would be returning her to that way of living once more.

After spending another few seconds remaining where she stood in the stairwell, Mara tried her best to shake off the shame she felt in spite of Tansy's words and continued up the corridor to deliver Jaime's breakfast.

**xxx**

"Mara," Jaime greeted her, a genuine smile spreading across his features.

Jaime knew that his chambers were probably the last place Mara wanted to be right now, but he couldn't resist indulging in every moment he had with the young woman. Being in the handmaiden's presence was the closest to happiness he'd felt in a very long time, and he intended to take full advantage of every second spent with her.

Over the past few days Mara had been avoiding Jaime. She would never flat out ignore him when he came to speak with her, but it was obvious that she didn't want to be near him. Although many men may have been discouraged, her treatment only increased his desire to get closer to her. Jaime had always enjoyed a challenge, and Mara was giving him one worthy of his greatest sword fighting opponent.

Showing no real acknowledgement of his greeting, Mara stepped over to the small table by the window and set the breakfast tray down.

"Hungry this morning, are you?" She commented, nodding toward the platter of various breakfast foods arranged on the tray.

"I thought it would be kind to offer you breakfast as well," Stepping toward her, Jaime gestured toward the table. "Surely you can't get enough just feeding on Bolton's leftovers."

Although it did seem that Jaime was merely trying to be courteous, Mara couldn't help but take the statement as a low blow to her current status. Did he honestly think that she wanted to work for Bolton; that she wanted to spend her days scrubbing floors and serving food to greedy, gluttonous men? It just so happened to be the very last thing that she wanted; next to being so tactlessly reminded about it.

"So very kind of you, Ser," Mara said with a slight curtsy, her every word dripping with sarcasm. "We lowborn girls are so rarely permitted to sup. Why, it's a wonder I'm even able to stand up straight without falling down!"

"Well if that ever happens to become the issue, My Lady, you are of course welcome to my bed as well," Jaime replied with a smirk.

"Is that what you want? For me to be your whore?" She spat, that same fire that Jaime loved kindling deep within her eyes.

"Is there a particular reason why you hold such prejudice against whores?" Jaime asked, his interested suddenly peaking. Truly, she seemed most upset even by mention of the word, and it was not the first time he'd noticed it.

Marveling at his audaciousness, Mara shook her head in disbelief. "Were you not acting as the Stark's whore for the past year?" She replied, hardly missing a beat. "Tell me Jaime, did you _enjoy it_?"

Hesitating, Jaime stared at her. Seven Hells she was smart, maybe even enough for her own good. If he had been anyone else that remark would have gotten her into a world of trouble. As it was, Jaime was not upset, in fact he was pleased that she had begun to feel comfortable enough to begin calling him by his given name again.

"Most women would jump at the chance for me to show such an interest in them," He said finally.

"I'm not most women_," _Mara shot back with her same quickness.

Marveling at her, Jaime paused. Finally nodding his head, he continued in a gentle voice. "No, you're not." Jaime obviously held a strong attraction to Mara. He'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to be interested, but he didn't want her for his whore. Not like that; never like that.

Remaining where she stood by the window, Mara crossed her arms over her chest. Why should she have to provide any explanation as to why she'd been upset by his choice of words? What woman _wouldn't _be upset at such a comparison? Lifting her hand to her mouth, she ran a finger over her bottom lip mindlessly, suddenly coming to the realization that she had just called Jaime by his first name. Wincing in spite of this recollection, as if in doing so she had lost a bet with herself, Mara groaned softly.

"What is it you want from me?" She suddenly shouted, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Wasting no time, Jaime strode forward, taking her face in his hand and pulling her close. "I want you to tell me why you can barely look at me," Gently forcing her chin upward, he inhaled sharply. "I want you to tell me what it is I've done to make you so disgusted with me." Stroking his thumb along her cheek, Jaime hesitated as he stared into her sweet, honest eyes. "I think I know what it is, but I want to hear it from you_._"

Mara had craved a physical closeness to match the emotional one she'd felt toward Jaime since meeting him, and now that she finally had it she could feel her desire igniting; arching up in a desperate attempt for more. But she couldn't forget why she was upset, she couldn't let this brief moment of pleasure turn into anything more, not until she knew the truth.

"Are you in love with your sister?" Mara demanded suddenly. There was no need to delay the matter any longer. It had been eating away at her for several days now, and she needed to hear him tell her the truth before they could go any further.

Staring at Mara, Jaime hesitated as he took in the severity of her words. So there it was. Of course those were the rumors that had driven Mara to become so upset. Even though being with Cersei seemed like a lifetime ago after what he'd been through, Jaime had to remind himself that is was truth, not rumor.

What Jaime said next meant everything; it would determine whether or not he would continue this relationship built on truth, or lies. Thus far Mara had received nothing but the truth from him, and he had relished in that fact. For the first time in ages Jaime had felt close enough to someone to allow himself to be vulnerable with them. He didn't want to give that up, but he couldn't tell her the truth either. There was no way she would understand; nobody understood.

Gently letting go of Mara, Jaime turned away, facing the window.

"I love my sister tremendously," He began, making sure to choose his words very carefully. After a few more seconds passed, he then turned around to face her once more.

Keeping her eyes at level with Jaime's, Mara held a deep breath.

"And I love her just as any _brother _should love his _sister._"

Exhaling that same breath, Mara resisted the urge to fall down to her knees with relief.

Sensing Mara's alleviation, the Kingslayer took a deep breath himself, but on the inside it chafed him. She had already become so trusting of him, and he had just told her an outright lie. Jaime didn't want to lie to Mara, he didn't want to go any further not being completely honest with her, but she wouldn't understand; and if she didn't understand she would begin to hate him like all the rest. He couldn't have that.

"Then why stay in Harrenhal when you have a family to go back to? Why risk your life? Any number of things could happen to change Bolton's mind, Jaime. You're being foolish."

"You're the first person to show me kindness in seventeen years; the first person whose been honest with me," He began softly. Jaime knew that everything Mara warned him of was true, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. In the past Jaime had not been concerned with anyone else's needs but his own, but he was beginning to feel a shift in those selfish motives. "I wanted to hold onto that as long as possible…I _still _do."

"There's plenty of people who would show you kindness, you just—"

"I prefer genuine kindness," He replied swiftly. "Seventeen years of nothing but people scoffing behind my back, glaring at me with such loathing. Can you honestly blame me for wanting the real thing?"

The truth was, she could not.

"Now it's my turn to ask you a question," Jaime began, his blue eyes still locked on her dark ones. "Why is it so important? Why did you care enough to get to the bottom of this rumor that's been following me around my entire life?"

"Because," Hesitating, Mara looked around the room helplessly, as if perhaps something could save her. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of having spent so much of my time with a man who may have single-handedly started a war over such vile reasons. Because I needed to know that it wasn't true."

"But why? Why do you care _so much_?" Jaime asked desperately, gazing at her.

"_I care." _Mara stated, a look of finality in her eyes.

That was all the motivation Jaime needed. Slowly smiling, he nodded his understanding.

"Well, that makes two of us." Extending his arm toward the table once more, he continued. "Please, dine with me."

None of it made sense; their mutual trust in each other after knowing one another for such a short amount of time, but Mara wasn't going to question it. They were finally getting back to that same place of comfort that they'd so seamlessly entered to begin with, and it was clear that they both needed it. For whatever reason, Mara trusted Jaime. It wasn't about safety, she didn't need anyone to protect her, it was something else entirely; something she had not yet discovered.

With that in mind, Mara took a step toward the table, smoothed out her skirts, and sat down.

"Do you enjoy working here?" Jaime asked casually, picking up a pitcher of water and pouring her a cup.

"Dream come true," Mara replied bitingly, picking up a ripe nectarine and rolling it around in the center of her palm.

Grinning, Jaime nodded his understanding.

"My father once told me that Harrenhal was the greatest fortress ever built; the tallest towers and the strongest walls...now it's nothing but a sad, blasted ruin that should have been long forgotten." Picking at the bacon on his plate, he took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as he continued. "Bolton is a fool if he considers being anointed Head of Harrenhal an honor."

"Bolton is many things," Mara began in a soft, cautious tone, "But he is no fool."

Considering her warning, Jaime finished off his first piece of bacon then quickly picked up another. "Did he give you any trouble last night, after our meeting?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Mara replied briskly, pressing the fruit to her lips.

Clenching his jaw, Jaime forced himself to swallow down the last bite of bacon he'd taken. He didn't want Bolton handling Mara, not at all.

Sensing Jaime's discomfort, Mara felt it best to change the subject. Taking a bite of nectarine, she then set it down on a plate. "How is your hand healing?" She asked, wiping her own off on a cloth napkin.

"I don't know," Jaime admitted, not having looked at his hand since the first day he'd arrived at Harrenhal. Truthfully, he'd tried to avoid it as much as possible.

"Let me see," She instructed softly, moving her hand to take his, but before she could do so he quickly pulled away.

"This isn't a duty call, I asked you to join me for breakfast," He muttered, attempting to hide his stump as he crossed his arms, but then flinching as he did.

Seeing that this rash movement had pained him, Mara stood up from the table and moved to his side. "I'm not doing it out of any sort of duty, I'm doing it because I want to." Ignoring his childish protests, Mara gently pulled his right arm outward, her long fingers slowly peeling away the cloth to reveal Jaime's maimed stump.

Taking a deep breath, the Kingslayer closed his eyes in shame. Although Jaime had indeed found an ease with Mara that he'd yet to find in anyone else, there were still certain things that he would need to get use to.

Gently running her finger along his wrist, she saw that the angry red marks were beginning to heal, his flesh working its way to cover the bone of his wrist.

"You don't need to see this," He said roughly, attempting to pull his arm away once more when Mara clamped her hand down on it.

Keeping her eyes on his, she shook her head. "I'm not looking at _it_, I'm looking at _you,_" Tilting her head, she raised his chin with her other hand, forcing him to look at her. "And if you'd stop acting like a child, you'd see that it's healing quite nicely."

Slowly breaking his gaze from Mara's, Jaime glanced down to find that she was right. Of course he hadn't miraculously grown his hand back, but Qyburn had done a tremendous job purifying and sewing it.

Calmly looking down at her in amazement, Jaime couldn't help but smile. After a few seconds spent indulging in the feel of her hand, he sighed. "Still, I suppose I can kiss being a Knight of the Kingsguard goodbye."

Leaning back to look at him, Mara frowned. "Why?"

"Well, My Lady, it may have escaped your attention, but I appear to be missing my swordhand…"

Rolling her eyes, Mara stood to collect a roll of fresh bandages from Jaime's bedside table. "Now I know I'm merely a simple, lowborn handmaiden…" Catching Jaime's eye, she smirked as the same expression graced his lips. "But I _do_ know that it only takes one hand to wield a sword."

"What are you proposing?" He asked cautiously.

"I just think it's foolish of you to presume you're no longer able to handle a sword. You still have a hand," Kneeling back down beside him, she slid her fingers through his as if to prove this, then raised his left hand in her own. "See?" Brushing her thumb across his knuckles, she smiled. "So _use_ it."

Gently squeezing Mara's hand in his own, Jaime felt his lips beginning to twitch into something of a smile, but then shook his head dismissively. "I can barely feed myself with my left hand, let alone use it to protect the king."

Taking hold of Jaime's right arm once more, Mara began to gradually wrap the fresh bandages around his wrist. "Funny, I was under the impression that Jaime Lannister indulged in challenges."

Keeping his gaze on Mara, Jaime felt himself faltering. The woman had only known him a little over a week now, and yet she appeared to know him better than himself. Such a kind, intelligent, vivacious woman did not deserve to be hidden away in some desolate castle in the north.

"You don't belong here," Jaime said suddenly. Sensing her confusion, he continued. "In Harrenhal."

"Where do I belong?" Mara asked slowly, tucking the end of the bandage down under his wrist.

"I haven't quite figured that out yet," Jaime admitted.

Standing once more, Mara brought her eyes level to Jaime's, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Let me know when you do."

**xxx**

**A/N:**Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I'm so glad you're all enjoying this pairing. I've got a lot in store for these two. Stay tuned!


	5. Dueling Desires

**Disclaimer: **This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone.

**xxx Chapter V: Dueling Desires xxx**

One of Mara's favorite places to spend her time was the market. It reminded her of a simpler time when her life hadn't taken on so many obstacles; so many hardships. The irony was truly something considering how many nights she had lain awake praying for something extraordinary to happen to her; to take her away from her simple life spent on the farm with her family. Had Mara known then what was bound to happen to her mother and father, she would have taken back every last prayer and cursed them all to the Seven Hells.

Waking from her slight reverie by the sound of clashing metal, Mara collected her basket and hurried toward the tiltyard to find Brienne of Tarth practicing her sword fighting. Mara had never lain eyes on such a woman before. She was taller than any man she'd ever known and unless her eyes deceived her, just as strong. The young handmaiden could not help but admire the woman. There was so much that she had likely been through in order to get to the place she was now. How could anyone _not _admire her?

Feeling someone's eyes on her, Brienne looked up to find the brunette handmaiden watching her.

"Can I be of service to you?" Brienne snapped, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted.

"No, I just…" Raising her hand, Mara was just about to make her apologies for interrupting and depart, when a sudden thought occurred to her. "Yes, actually…perhaps you can."

"Are you interested in sword fighting?" Brienne asked in disbelief.

"It does interest me, yes, but I was actually asking on behalf of Jaime."

"Why are you concerning yourself with what Jaime needs?" Brienne wondered aloud, clearly taken by surprise.

"I realize that the likelihood of Jaime ever asking for your services himself is…" Her words trailing off, Mara hesitated. They both knew what she meant; Jaime was stubborn as hell, there was no need to say anymore. "But I know he thinks you're an incredible fighter. He would be honored to be trained by you, even if he didn't show it."

"How do you know that?" Brienne spat, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Because he told me of how you protected him on the Kingsroad," Stepping closer to Brienne, Mara placed a friendly hand on the larger woman's arm. "You were his strength through it all, he wouldn't have made it this far without you."

Although Brienne was indeed flattered by Mara's words, she couldn't be sure if the woman was being honest about Jaime's feelings, or whether she was simply saying this to mold things to her own benefit. "Why do you care so much about Jaime's training?"

"Because it's all he knows and he's desperate to return to it," Mara admitted, "Because I care for him and I can sense that you care for him as well. Please consider helping him, Brienne. He needs it, but we both know he's too damn proud to ask you himself."

Glancing down at the young woman's hand, Brienne hesitated. Jaime had never told her such things, but she'd never expected him to either. Truth be told, she knew that he needed proper training. Could he ever return to being the sword fighting champion he'd been before losing his hand? There was really no way to be sure, but she was at least confident in her ability to get him fighting halfway decently again.

"I'll consider it."

Smiling her gratitude, Mara lowered her hand to squeeze Brienne's into her own. "Thank you."

**xxx**

"Get up," Brienne grunted, tossing one of Jaime's heavy boots straight into his face.

"Fuck!" Jaime exclaimed, sitting up in bed to find Brienne standing over him. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back against the headboard. "Gods, you're a frightening sight to wake up to."

Ignoring him, Brienne went over to the window and spread the curtains wide, earning another shout of profanity from Jaime. "You told me to get back to you once I've made my decision; I have. I'll stay in Harrenhal for another week at most, but only to help you get back up on your feet," Turning to face Jaime once more, she continued without breaking stride. "Then we will both return to King's Landing to see your oath to Lady Catelyn through."

Staring at Brienne, Jaime shook his head. After taking a boot to the face, he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "What are you talking about?"

"You've lost your swordhand, you're a cripple," Brienne stated the obvious, earning a look of seething hatred from Jaime. "I need someone capable of guarding my back on the long journey to the Capitol, and right now, that's not you."

Brienne had no interest in telling Jaime the truth; that she felt sorry for him, that perhaps she did see a kindness in him lurking beneath the surface, and perhaps that kindness could blossom with the handmaiden's help. Brienne honestly did not know what laid in Jaime's future, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't noticed a change in the Kingslayer over the past week.

"I won't wait around all day. Hurry up."

Turning away, Brienne exited Jaime's bed chambers, leaving him to stare after her.

**xxx**

"This is fucking pointless," Jaime snarled, throwing his sword down onto the ground, signaling his defeat.

The two opponents had been at it for several hours now and Jaime had grown tired of being made a fool of. He'd always been a sore loser, but he became particularly sore when losing to a woman.

"You're pathetic," Brienne muttered, shaking her head with disgust. "Let me know when you're serious about returning to your place on the Kingsguard."

Tossing her sword down beside his, Brienne turned and hurried away from the tiltyard, brushing past Mara as she did.

The young handmaiden had seen the look of disappointment in Brienne's eyes as she left, and Mara could not blame her. How could anyone tolerate being treated in such a way? Feeling her anger mounting, Mara raised her skirts and hurried over to where Jaime had propped himself up against a tree.

"Why are you treating her so harshly?" Mara demanded, glaring at Jaime with a look of utter disapproval. "She's clearly trying to help you!"

"She's annoying me," He replied simply.

"Is that how you treat people who annoy you?"

"If you've just come to lecture me over my bloody manners…" Raising his left hand, Jaime snapped his thumb and forefinger together, as if something important had suddenly occurred to him. "Ah, perhaps that's it! Perhaps you should be a septa." Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes. "Are you a woman of good faith, Lady Thaller?" Smirking at his own cleverness, he ran a hand over the back of his neck, a shallow pool of sweat lining the inside of his palm. "Tell me, do you worship the Old Gods, or the New?"

Striding over to Jaime, Mara picked up the sword that Brienne had left behind.

"What are you doing?" He asked, staring at her curiously.

Jaime had grown irritable throughout the day, both over the fact that he could no longer wield a sword, as well as the fact that he had lied to Mara about Cersei. The lies had been keeping him up at night, and his frustrations grew further when Brienne had shown him up in the tiltyard. But the moment he came in contact with the young handmaiden, he quickly remembered why it had been a sacrifice he'd been willing to make. She was well worth it.

"What do you think?" She shot back, gripping the sword handle tightly.

"Do you honestly think you're going to teach me how to sword fight?"

"No, you prick," Holding the sword outward, she smirked. "_You're _going to teach _me_; and by teaching me…" Extending her weapon, she playfully thrust it in his direction.

"I'll reteach myself." Jaime finished her thought, understanding.

Nodding with a sly smile, Mara continued. "Exactly."

Oddly enough, Jaime did not refuse Mara's proposal. Everything else had failed at this point, so why not give it a try? There was really no harm in it, and if anything else it would earn him some more time with her.

"Alright, my Lady, I'll show you…but it's going to be grueling work, not for the faint of heart." Flexing his jaw, he continued with a smirk. "Hours and hours of sweat, sore muscles, aches and pains…"

Rolling her eyes at Jaime, Mara mimed sticking her finger down her throat to show him just what she thought of his impressive words.

Grinning, Jaime stood up from his lounging position. "The first thing you have to master is your stance," Taking a few steps closer, he moved behind Mara, placing his hand on her waist. "You've got to feel it here." Pressing his fingertips down over her hip, he applied more pressure, his eyes watching her closely from where he stood behind her.

Breathing steadily, Mara silently compelled herself not to get too worked up by their sudden proximity. It seemed every time she got close to Jaime that same flame burst inside of her; burning, consuming… "Stance, right, got it." She nodded her understanding.

Watching her silently, Jaime rubbed his lips together. For a fleeting moment he was left reeling on what should come next because all he really wanted to do was stay close to her. Quickly remembering himself, he stepped out in front of her, leaning down to collect his sword. It felt so strange to hold it in his left hand, but he knew that it was something he would have to get used to. Mara was right; he had a hand, he needed to use it.

"Alright, let's begin."

Over the next several minutes, Mara could see Jaime's self-confidence building as he explained each step of sword fighting to her. Knowledge and power radiated off of him, and she couldn't help but indulge in it. He was finally coming into his own again. As arrogant as Jaime could be, Mara was pleased to see that he was beginning to have faith in himself again.

"So, what, like this then?" Reaching out, Mara jabbed her sword toward his, a light clash of metal against metal sounding in the air.

Grinning, he shook his head. "You've got to pivot as you deliver the stroke," Moving forward, Jaime demonstrated for her. "Throw your weight into it."

Nodding as she listened to Jaime's words, Mara took his advice and raised her sword, delivering the stroke just as he had explained.

Truly impressed, Jaime nodded. "Better."

Bending his elbow, Jaime swung his sword out to her once more, raising his eyebrows when Mara succeeded in blocking it with her own swift movement. "_Very_ good."

"And all in skirts, no less," Mara smirked, performing a tiny curtsy as she whipped around, holding her sword out once more.

Smirking, Jaime came close, delivering yet another cut to her sword; causing it to go flying out of her hands. Moving closer, he held his sword outstretched toward her. "This is the part where you yield," He explained.

"And if I don't?" She countered, her deep dark eyes flickering from his sword to his face.

Staring at her, Jaime hesitated. For once he did not have a clever reply to toss back at her.

Smiling in spite of her own personal achievement, Mara grew even more excited by Jaime's. "That was a very impressive parry, Ser," Bowing her head, she sighed. "I suppose I…yield…_for now._"

Suddenly realizing that he had just held onto his own for a brief amount of time, Jaime couldn't help but revel in his achievement. The sword in his left hand was becoming more familiar with time. It was a small victory, but it was something, and now that he'd started he couldn't very well stop.

_"__For now?"_ Jaime questioned.

Quickly stooping down to collect her sword, Mara raised it once more. "You don't think I'm going to just let you get away with that, do you?"

Grinning, Jaime balanced his sword in his left hand, liking the feel of it more and more. "I wouldn't dream of it, My Lady."

**xxx**

After the two had dueled for the better part of the afternoon, Jaime caught Mara around the waist and pulled her into the stable to have a few moments away from prying eyes. All day they had been the topic of conversation as the people of Harrenhal watched them together. When Jaime really thought about it, he couldn't blame them. It was likely a humorous sight; the crippled Kingslayer and the handmaiden.

"You're a fast learner," Jaime observed, eyeing Mara suspiciously as she ran a hand over the long braid she'd swept her hair up into. He couldn't help but take notice to the fact that she seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him altogether.

"I suppose so," She replied at last, something of a smile flickering across her features for a fraction of a second before disappearing just as quickly. Pulling her hair loose of the braid, she ran her fingers through the silky strands.

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. "This wasn't your first time practicing with swords, was it?"

Opening her mouth as if to defend her honor, she then stopped suddenly, biting down on her bottom lip instead. "Perhaps not…"

Staring at her in amazement, Jaime let out a sudden bark of laughter.

"I told you, I grew up on a farm! There wasn't much to do for entertainment, my father's stable boy and I used to play at it…" Mara grinned, quickly succumbing to Jaime's laughter herself.

"Is there anything else I don't know about you?" He asked, his face shining with astonishment.

"Why, of course there is," Mara replied, a coy smile spreading across her lips.

Gods, she was so incredibly beautiful and tempting in that moment, she always had been, but especially now with sweat glistening on her brow and roses in her cheeks. Jaime had been at war with himself for days in his desperate attempt to keep himself from acting inappropriately with her. Never before had he craved anyone's approval, never; but for Mara the Kingslayer was completely desperate for it.

"So I'm to believe that you lied to me in order for my training to be successful…"

"Lying is such a harsh, unnecessary word," Shrugging her shoulders, Mara smirked softly. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

Grinning, Jaime shook his head in disbelief. He had never had someone do something so selfless for him. It was an incredible gesture, truly, but at the same time it made him long for his past. Why did the Gods despise him so much that they'd made him meet Mara under such circumstances? Why couldn't it have been sooner?

"I wish you'd known me when I was at my best," Jaime admitted softly, his gaze wandering away, avoiding her own.

Frowning at Jaime's words, Mara moved closer. Touching her hand to his face, she grazed his jaw with her fingertips. "I _have _known you at your best."

Gazing at Mara once more, Jaime made his decision then and there. Although they had known each other for only a short time, none of it mattered, it had still been far too much time that he hadn't spent worshipping her. He needed her now, more than ever. More than Cersei, more than his father's approval, more than anything he'd ever desired in his entire life.

"We can't do this," Mara said suddenly as if reading Jaime's thoughts, causing him to pause just as he leaned forward.

"It's already done," Jaime whispered throatily, encircling her waist with his right arm and tugging her down into the hay with him. Capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, Jaime delighted in the sound of Mara's soft moans of protest, mentally counting the seconds before they turned to moans of pleasure instead. The kiss was desperate and furious, an outpouring of frenzied passion that had consumed them both for days now, locked away inside; unable to be free…until now.

Twisting his fingers through her hair, Jaime gently tipped her head back, angling his lips lower as he placed kiss after urgent kiss upon her neck and collarbone. Her sweat was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted in his life. If the rest of her bared any resemblance to what he'd delighted in so far, he would spend the rest of his days obsessing until he could feast on every last part of her.

Willfully leaning her head back, Mara closed her eyes, her core aching with desire for him, her chest rising and falling as her heart rate quickened with each new kiss. Jaime's lips had taken possession of her body and every new touch felt like a hot flame, bursting onto her skin. "Jaime," Mara spoke softly, no longer in protest, only in longing.

Hearing Mara call out to him was the sweetest sound Jaime had ever heard, and it only encouraged him to go further. Moving his hand along the bodice of her dress, he brought his attention next to her ample breasts, pressing his lips over each mound of smooth, soft flesh that peaked out from her neckline. Arching back into Jaime's arms, Mara gasped softly, savoring the feeling of his mouth on her body.

Hearing the sounds of rustling in the room beside them, both Jaime and Mara looked up to find the stable boy watching from where he'd attempted to conceal himself behind a tower of hay. Narrowing her eyes, Mara noticed that Rand had caused this movement by trying to unbuckle his pants. Hurrying away, Rand bolted from the stables like the coward he was.

Panting heavily, Jaime squeezed Mara's waist gently, attempting to pull her forward for another kiss when she tilted her head to the side. "What? The little letch is gone now. Don't let it ruin this," He pleaded, rubbing small circles over her hip.

"I can't," She said finally, shaking her head. "It shouldn't be here anyway."

Falling back against the stable floor, Jaime sighed in defeat. Staring up at Mara as she hovered over him, he licked his lips. As much as he wanted her now and always, he knew that she was right. He couldn't take her in a barn like a common whore for their first time; she deserved so much better.

"I have to go, supper will need tending to…" Making to get off of him, Jaime caught her once more around the waist.

"That's why there's a cook," He explained.

Smiling, Mara shook her head once more. She couldn't abandon her duties, that would only give Rand and Tansy more to gossip about. "I'll come back to you," She promised, leaning forward to press another kiss to his lips, her dark hair fanning out, covering them both. With each eager stroke of his tongue, Mara laughed softly into the kiss, knowing full well that Jaime was attempting to use his mouth to keep her right where she was. Gods, that mouth. What a mouth. It had made her feel things she'd never felt before, but as much as she wanted more it would have to wait.

"When?" He demanded as she finally managed to escape his embrace.

Standing up, Mara swept her fingers through her hair, pulling away spare bits of hay that had wound their way between the strands.

_"__MARA!"_

Hearing her name coming from the kitchens, Mara glanced over in that same direction. Rand had obviously gotten back to Tansy by now and had likely reported everything he'd seen.

_"__When?" _Jaime repeated impatiently, reaching up to take her hand when she playfully spun away.

"Now, what fun would it be if I told you?" Grinning, Mara hurried off, her skirts flying behind her as she ran back towards the castle.

Jaime could hear her shouting back to the cook in the distance, but couldn't quite make out the words. Lying back down in the hay, he stared up at the ceiling, breathless. Now that he'd had a taste of her, it was clear he would never get enough. Before it had been speculated, certainly, but now he knew with the utmost certainty: Mara didn't belong in Harrenhal; she belonged with him.

**xxx**

**A/N: **Thank you again for all the kind reviews! A few shout outs:

**MarinasDiamond **- Thank you! I was worried about whether or not readers would like Mara since she's an OC. Glad to know you're enjoying her!

**Lily** - Thank you! I'm so pleased that this story has you enthralled. I hope that my writing continues to capture your attention.

**Guest, Enjolras123, IloveStallison - **I hope this chapter keeps you well entertained until the next one!

This chapter was such fun to write, I hope the wait was worth it! As always dear readers, stay tuned, there's so much more to come… ;)


	6. Time Stands Still

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone. 

**xxx Chapter VI: Time Stands Still xxx**

"That little fuckin' whore!" Tansy exclaimed in disbelief, shaking her head as she pulled out two fresh loaves of bread from the ovens.

True to his reputation, Rand had hurried straight to the kitchens to share his latest gossip with the cook upon catching Mara with the Kingslayer in the stables.

"They were rollin' round in the hay like a couple'a dogs in heat," Rand announced, chuckling somewhat bitterly under his breath.

"I suppose you wished it was you, eh?" Tansy commented, rolling her eyes.

Picking at a plate of something that smelled nearly as foul as he did, Rand shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant fashion. "The way she's givin' it up, I reckon it won't be long before I get a taste for m'self."

_"Is that venison I smell?"_

Hearing an unfamiliar voice, Tansy and Rand both stood to watch as Jaime Lannister entered the kitchens through the back door. Rarely did anyone of importance ever venture into the kitchens, and if they did they certainly did not use the servant's entrance.

Scrunching his upper lip in distaste, Jaime shook his head. After spending an entire month journeying to Winterfell a few years back and eating nothing but the dreaded meat during his travels, he'd grown to hate the dish that so many others deemed a delicacy. "I don't like venison."

Hurrying forward, Tansy bowed her head, then remembering herself, offered a feeble attempt at a curtsy instead. "That's just one of several dishes I can prepare for you, M'Lord," Flashing him a toothy smile, she nodded. "I've got suckling pig, partridge, and quail too! I can fry 'em up, cook 'em in a stew, anythin' you like, M'Lord."

"I'm not your Lord," Jaime muttered harshly, quickly dismissing the cook as he strode over to the stable boy.

Straightening up from where he'd stood perched against the chopper's block, Rand swallowed, trying not to look like he was about to shit his breeches from being in such close proximity to the Kingslayer.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Jaime asked with a slight smile. "She's certainly something, isn't she? The only thing of beauty you're likely to see in this giant shithole, I'd wager. Can't say I'd blame you for showing an interest…"

"Yes, M'…" Hesitating, Rand nodded. "Y-yes…she is." Encouraged by Jaime's words, the stable boy beamed. "Tell me Ser," Glancing around the kitchens to make sure they were still alone, apart from Tansy, he continued with a wide grin. "Does she feel as good as she looks?"

Swinging his left arm out, Jaime scattered a pile of food to the floor on his way to grab Rand around the neck, earning a loud series of screeches from the cook as she backed away towards the door. "You'll never know. If you ever think about taking that little worm of a cock out when you're anywhere _near _her again, I'll slice it clean off." Pressing his thumb down over the boy's larynx, he applied a dangerous amount of pressure. "Understand?"

Nodding vigorously, Rand coughed and sputtered as Jaime finally let him go, falling into a nearby table before dropping to the floor. Eyeing the cook as he made his way towards the front entrance, Jaime narrowed his eyes. She was just as much of a gossipy bitch as the stable boy, and although Jaime had never hit a woman he glared daggers at her, letting her know that he would no longer be opposed if she continued spreading filth about Mara.

Once leaving the kitchens, Jaime descended to the bathing chambers. He'd hoped he might've been able to find Mara there, but knew she was probably off doing some errand or another to prepare for supper. Over the past week Lord Bolton had been a dutiful host, making sure that his guests were well fed and seen to properly. Jaime had no doubt that tonight would be any different.

By the time Jaime returned to the dining hall a little over an hour later, the rest of his party had arrived. Catching Mara's eye as she set the table, he flashed her a knowing smile. How long was she going to torture him before she paid him another visit? The waiting was driving him mad, but he'd never surrender. He would play her games, hell, he would _win _them. Jaime had always been a man to see through what he set his mind to, and being with Mara was no different.

"I trust you're finding your accommodations comfortable," Lord Bolton addressed Jaime from across the dining table.

Picking at his plate of food, Jaime nodded his response, his eyes still on Mara. "Fairly adequate, yes."

Doing his best to ignore Jaime's obvious slight towards him, Bolton cleared his throat in attempt to capture the Kingslayer's attention. "As you may or may not be aware, I will be traveling to the Twins to attend Edmure Tully's wedding in a few days time."

Detecting the hint in Bolton's voice, Jaime kept his expression impassive. He could tell that the man was trying to goad him into leaving Harrenhal. "Can't say that I was; I've been a bit preoccupied as of late," He admitted, his eyes wandering back over to Mara as she stood silently behind Bolton. "Please do let Robb Stark know that the Lannister's send their regards."

"I'll be sure to do that," Bolton replied with a slight bow of his head. "You're feeling better?" Bolton questioned, taking a sip of water from his goblet. "Many took notice to your training today, myself included." Glancing over at the handmaiden, he narrowed his eyes as he nodded towards his goblet.

Feeling herself stiffen slightly in spite of Lord Bolton's words, Mara forced herself to keep her gaze away from Jaime as she hurried to collect a pitcher of water. She could feel him watching her as she stood just a few feet away, but didn't dare show him the attention she desired; not with her Lord Master present.

"Yes," Jaime finally replied, stabbing a roasted potato and raising it to his lips. "I thought it might be prudent to partake in a bit of swordplay before I begin my journey back to the Capital."

Although his attention rarely swayed from Mara as of late, Jaime had noticed that Brienne was absent from dinner tonight. After all, she was a rather hard woman to miss… He assumed she was likely still pouting over how he'd treated her during their session earlier that day. Jaime made a mental note to seek her out later, perhaps apologize for his rudeness. Apologies were not something that Jaime Lannister tended to partake in of course, but Mara had said he'd been harsh. Perhaps she was right. More and more, Jaime became amazed at what the clever little handmaiden managed to get him to do. She had an effect on him that no one had ever mastered before, not even Cersei.

"Is the great Jaime Lannister doubting his prowess with a sword now?"

Gritting his teeth as he chewed his dinner, Jaime picked up his own goblet and drained its contents. "Not doubtful, no," He replied smoothly, setting his drink back down on the table. "But there are bound to be several enemies along the Kingsroad," Narrowing his eyes at Bolton, he continued. "Several _more _enemies, that is. Doesn't hurt to be prepared."

Catching onto Jaime's meaning, Bolton cleared his throat. He did not like being reminded of the mistake his banner men had made when transporting Jaime and Brienne to Harrenhal, and Jaime knew as much. It amused him, watching Bolton squirm at the thought of what could happen between now and the time Jaime arrived back in King's Landing. Perhaps he'd tell Lord Tywin a completely different tale from the one he'd agreed upon with Bolton. Bolton knew his treatment of Jaime whilst he continued to stay in Harrenhal would surely be the Kingslayer's deciding factor of the matter.

Once serving Lord Bolton another goblet of water, Mara moved to the small table towards the back of the room to collect another pitcher, this one full of wine. Moving over to Jaime, she stood by his side as she leaned forward, filling his goblet with more of the red vintage he liked so much. Looking up, Jaime's eyes met Mara's briefly before he caught her free hand in his own, stroking the smooth skin of her palm beneath the table.

Smiling inside of her cheek, the handmaiden bowed her head toward Lord Bolton before returning to the kitchens to serve the next course.

Not missing the exchange between Jaime and the handmaiden, Roose Bolton cleared his throat once more. "Yes, well, you are of course welcome to stay here as long as you need."

Openly following Mara with his eyes as she returned to the kitchens, Jaime smiled, then slowly brought his attention back to the man sitting across from him. "Your generosity will not be forgotten, Lord Bolton." 

**xxx**

Hearing a knock at his door, Jaime stood from his bed and quickly crossed the room. Opening his chamber door, he saw Mara standing behind it, smiling up at him. Reaching out, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her body flush against his, closing the distance between them. "That was the longest bloody dinner I've ever had to sit through," Pressing a kiss to her neck, he murmured softly against her skin. "And I've been to a thirty-six course wedding feast, mind you."

"It did seem to drag on a bit longer than usual," Leaning her head back as Jaime began to suck the soft flesh of her pulse point into his mouth, she sighed. "I think Bolton may be onto us though."

"I don't give a fuck who's onto us," Sliding his hand down her lower back, he clawed at the material of her dress, quickly working the laces apart between his fingers. "I don't care if the whole fucking world knows." Swiftly pulling her dress down, he tilted his head back to stare at his lovely little handmaiden as she stood before him in just the thin material of her corset.

"Tell us how you _really_ feel," She teased, pressing her hands to his chest and stepping forward as she touched her lips to his jaw once, twice, three times before pressing another gentle trail of kisses along a pathway up to his ear. "By the way, _this is the part where you yield_…"

Gently pushing Jaime onto the bed, she smirked as he tossed his head back against the pillows, laughing softly in spite of her words. "Can't say I've ever yielded to anyone so willingly before."

Moving between his legs, Mara slid down to her knees, tugging off his boots one by one before standing once more. "To be fair, I didn't really leave you much of a choice. I'm a very determined opponent, you see." Tucking her hands behind her, she untied the laces of her corset, slowly allowing the material to slip down past her breasts, waist and thighs until it landed in a pool of cloth at her feet. It had been a long time since Mara had allowed herself to be so vulnerable with a man. In fact, she'd gone as far as to swear that the next time she was it would be by her own choice; on her own terms. The young handmaiden had spent too many nights with men she didn't care for; too many nights doing things she felt ashamed of in the morning. Being with Jaime however, was not something she would ever feel ashamed of; no matter where he came from.

Gazing up at her, Jaime took a deep breath as he felt his pulse increase, his erection stirring relentlessly against the restricting material of his pants. For a man who was known to fire away clever retorts just as quickly as he delivered strokes of his sword, he was left completely speechless. Mara was beautiful in every sense of the word, standing before him as bare as her name day. Her skin was soft and subtle, breasts full and pert, sex glistening for him between smooth, strong thighs that he could not wait to slide between and never, ever leave.

Easing onto the bed, Mara slid forward on her hands and knees, spreading her long tanned legs as she reached Jaime's torso, straddling his lap. Threading her fingers through the laces of his shirt, she quickly undid them, pulling the light cloth from over his head and tossing it toward the pile of clothes she'd left on the floor. Leaning forward, her long hair spilled over his face as she tauntingly brushed her lips over his. "Why so silent, Ser?"

"You're beautiful…" He finally managed to choke out, marveling at every inch of her. She was long and lean, her weight light as a feather against him, but strong in a way he couldn't even begin describe. His little handmaiden had a presence that demanded to be felt, which was exactly what he intended to do. Sliding his arms around her middle, he then moved his left hand down to cup the curve of her ass, lifting her up as he spun around and placed her gently back down onto the bed. Gazing at her as she laid splayed out against the pillows, he smiled adoringly. "I don't deserve you."

"I know," Mara replied with a playful smile. Taking his hand into her own, she twined their fingers together before raising them and gently kissing along his knuckles. "Lucky for you, I've always been attracted to men who are all wrong for me."

Feeling his jaw twitch, Jaime tried to cover it up with a smile. He knew that Mara was merely teasing him, but the words had hit him somewhere deep.

"Hey," Touching her nose to his, she nuzzled him gently. "That was a joke," Stretching her hands forward, she stroked the sparse hair that decorated his chest and stomach. "Come here," Tilting her head, she pressed another soft kiss to his lips. "I want this…I want _you_…"

Jaime kept trying to console himself over his deception to Mara, attempting to convince himself that telling her the truth about Cersei would have done more harm than good. He'd lied to so many people about his relationship with Cersei and never thought twice about it, but for whatever reason it was different with Mara. It was truly mad, but he couldn't decide what frightened him more; the possibility of telling her only to have her leak his secret…or the possibility that once he told her she might never look at him in the same way again.

Deciding to push those thoughts away for now, Jaime kept his eyes on her, feeling the corners of his lips twitching up into a smirk as he brushed his thumb over her lips. "You're sure about that?"

"Mmm, not really, no," Gently biting into the fleshy side of this thumb, she smirked. "Better hurry up before I change my mind."

"Clever girl," He murmured, pressing a series of kisses along the valley between her breasts as he unbuckled his pants. Gazing down at her, Jaime hesitated as something important occurred to him. It was all becoming very clear to him now; he was certain that his relationship with Cersei was a thing of the past…so long as Mara could be his future.

"Are you…" Jaime had begun to question Mara's decision once more when she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. Placing her soft, smooth hands to either side of his face, she brought him in for another kiss, parting his lips with her tongue. Understanding, Jaime gladly reciprocated her kiss with a savage one of his own. Sliding his hand down her inner thigh, he cupped her sex briefly before slipping his index finger forward and circling the bundle of nerves between her legs over and over, only stopping when he felt her dewy arousal coating his fingertips.

Tossing her head back against the pillow, Mara's breath hitched in her throat as Jaime traced her insides to perfection. Trembling and writhing against his touch, she clenched her thighs over his wrist, pulling him closer. "_You_," She begged softly, biting onto his bottom lip as her hand traced along the trail of hair leading down to his manhood. "_Now._"

Two simple words, and yet that was all he needed to hear. Gladly obliging, Jaime finished removing the rest of his clothes before settling himself once more between Mara's legs, poised and aching. Keeping his eyes on the beauty beneath him, he took a deep breath himself, savoring the sight. Not wanting to take advantage of another moment not spend inside of her, he thrust his hips sharply forward, grunting softly as he was met with her slick, wet heat. "Fuck," He breathed, marveling at her as he became fully sheathed in what was undoubtedly the sweetest, tightest heaven he'd ever been. Arching her back, Mara moaned softly, her inner muscles contracting over him as she adjusted to his size. Biting down on her lip, she embraced him, drawing him closer with her legs as her eyes fluttered to a close.

"No," Jaime breathed, moving his hand to grip her chin gently as he redirected her gaze to his. "Look at me."

Nodding her understanding, Mara pressed her lips together, careful to obey his request despite the waves of pleasure threatening to sweep her away. Pressing her knees over his hips, she wrapped her legs securely around his waist as she trailed the arches of her feet up and down the back of his legs, coaxing him to keep going. Panting softly, Jaime's lips emitted a soft sound of longing as he willed himself not to give into that same temptation when he felt her pull him closer, instead keeping his eyes locked on hers as he plunged forward once more. Setting up a steady rhythm, he clenched his jaw and cupped the inside of her knee to pull her even closer to him, delighting in the way her body fit to his so perfectly.

"Jaime," Mara chanted his name softly, his succession of quick, swift thrusts sending her reeling into an elevated frenzy that chased away everything but this very moment. Struggling to keep his composure, Jaime groaned softly in reply, his breathing heavy as he bent his head to press his lips to her neck, kissing her everywhere he could while whispering incoherent words of desire. Keeping his face close to hers, he slid his hand along the mattress by her side, pressing it palm down as he arched and bowed, quickening his pace. She was warm and tight, beautiful and glorious…all of these things at once. She was more than he deserved, more than he could have ever wished for. He felt his undoing quickly approaching.

Pulling Jaime down by his neck, Mara surged against him, taking every last inch of him deep inside as she arched back to meet each slam of his pelvis with an equally powerful one of her own. Their bodies throbbed and heaved with each other, all limbs working at a feverish pace in desperate attempts to become closer. Leaning his head forward, Jaime pressed his mouth to one of her full breasts, tonguing her nipple between his lips as he growled lightly against it.

After several more moments of their continued passion play, Mara cried out as her body was seized by the most powerful, life altering orgasm she'd ever experienced in her life. Gripping onto him, she leaned forward, burying her mouth in his shoulder as she cried out again and again, her fingernails digging deep crescent shapes into the middle of his back as her insides clenched around him. Holding her shaking body close to his as he felt her unravel, Jaime flexed his jaw, delighting in both the pain and pleasure of her raking fingernails as he delivered a few more strokes forward before he, too, met his surrender. Breathing heavily, a strained yell sounded from the back of his throat as he arched back, pounding into her several more times as he spilt his seed inside of her tight, warm core which suctioned around him so obligingly.

Draped across each other in a tangle of limbs, Jaime and Mara panted heavily, each seeing the same glorious stars behind their lids as they finally closed their eyes to rest. Utterly spent, Jaime buried his face in her hair, nuzzling his cheek against her scalp. She was so warm, so magnificent. He needed her to be his more than anything else. This wasn't a game, nor some farce fling. Their passion was too much to be ignored; too much not to be explored even further.

"Do you remember when I said you didn't belong here?" Jaime asked, his chest heaving as he laid back against the pillows. "When you told me to let you know when I'd figured out where it was you belonged?"

Laying her head down on his chest as she spread her hand out over his abdomen, Mara nodded slowly in reply. She was still having difficulty collecting enough breath to draw words, and admired him greatly for managing to string together two sentences.

"You belong with me," Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Jaime inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. It wasn't a question. "I need you with me, Mara. Always."

"You realize what you're saying…" She breathed, running her fingers over the thin skin covering the joining of his hip and thigh.

"I do," Jaime replied quickly, his voice taking on a tone of finality. "When I leave Harrenhal, you're coming with me." 

**xxx**

Leaving the dining hall behind, Brienne began her journey back to her bed chambers. The very last thing she'd wanted to do was sup with Jaime after he'd acted as rude and arrogant as he had earlier that day. To think he would actually be able to train with her…it was a humorous thought now, looking back at it. The young handmaiden had spoken some sweet words, but talk was cheap and Jaime Lannister was a selfish arse who was unlikely to ever change.

After eating a late supper by herself, Brienne made her way along one of the many corridors leading to the upper parts of the castle. Although Harrenhal had become a desolate ruin since the War of Conquest, it was still great, and she had found herself getting turned around more than once in the past week.

_"They'll never see it comin', M'Lord…"_

Hearing a familiar voice, Brienne paused, slowly moving toward the room where she saw flames and shadows dancing along the wall across from the open door. She recognized that voice. _Locke._ Pressing herself against the corridor, Brienne listened closely to Roose Bolton's reply.

"He's a stubborn child, nothing more. He doesn't deserve to be in the position he's in."

"No doubt about that," Locke agreed, chuckling mercilessly. "He's had this coming for a long time now, I reckon."

"I'm sending some of my best men to take his family and army," Pausing with a slight smirk, Bolton continued. "Then I'll make my own appearance…in time."

Eyes widening as she heard the two men exchanging their battle strategies, Brienne hesitated, then quickly turned and hurried back down the corridor as quietly as she possibly could. She knew that a man like Roose Bolton would not tolerate Jaime's games for much longer, no matter who he was; not without a price. They had to get back to the Capital, to beat Bolton's men before they could go forth with their attack on King's Landing. Surely Jaime would put his flirtation with the handmaiden aside once he learned that his family was in danger.

"Did you hear something?" Lord Bolton inquired, nodding towards the open door.

Standing, Locke strode over to the door and peeked around the corner, but found nothing but the darkness of the corridors. Pulling the door to Bolton's chambers shut, he shook his head as he walked back towards him. "Nothing, M'Lord."

Once satisfied, Bolton nodded. "You'll look after things while I'm away," He eyed Locke, taking a sip of mulled wine as he sat before the fire. Although he did not normally partake, at such a late hour he allowed himself this one indulgence. The King of the North would soon be removed from his throne. It was a time to celebrate, after all.

"Yes, M'Lord," Lock replied evenly.

"I'm not yet sure what Jaime Lannister is playing at. Alas, I'm sure he'll tire of the handmaiden soon enough and be on his way back to his sister." Swirling around the wine in his goblet, Bolton paused. "Still, if he were to try anything…"

Nodding his understanding, Locke grinned. "I'll take his other hand if he tries to take what's yours, M'Lord."

Leaning back in his chair, Bolton nodded slowly, adopting Locke's grin onto his own face as he glanced back towards the fireplace. "Good." 

**xxx**

**A/N: **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I do apologize for the wait, but wanted to get things as close to perfect as possible. It's been a chapter I've been eager to write from the beginning.

A Few Shout Out's…

**Enjolras123 & ZabuzasGirl: **Done and done! Hope you both enjoyed this chapter as much as the last.

**jk, elaine, IloveStallison: **Never fear, Jaime isn't going anywhere without his little handmaiden! I hope I did well to make that clear in this chapter. ;)

**FYI:** Just to prevent any possible confusion, the conversation that Brienne overheard between Bolton and Locke at the end of this chapter is a conversation regarding what's to take place between the Frey's and Stark's at the Red Wedding. Brienne jumps to conclusions thinking he's referring to the Lannister's. Thought this would be a good way to finally get them all out of Harrenhal. It'll be a long journey to King's Landing. Hope you all enjoy the ride! As always, reviews are very much welcome. My head is swirling with many different scenarios of what's to come, but I'd love some feedback and suggestions as to what you'd like to see happen next. :)


	7. Misunderstandings

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone.

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><p><strong>Misunderstandings<strong>

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><p>"Jaime…" Mara began softly, a somewhat cautious tone sounding in her voice.<p>

Leaving Harrenhal behind was a lovely idea, and Mara would be telling an outright lie if she were to say that she'd never considered it before — especially since Jaime's arrival — but the reality of his words had quickly begun to sink in. Jaime was an important man; he was Knight of the Kingsguard, eldest son of Tywin Lannister. He could have anything he wanted; denounce his position on the Kingsguard, become heir to Casterly Rock, marry a woman of high standing and rejoice in all the spoils it brought him. Mara's head grew tired as she mulled over all the reasons he had to return home to the life he'd left behind, yet she couldn't think of one decent explanation as to why he would risk all that and more to bring her to the Capital with him.

Ignoring what he knew were bound to be protests, Jaime buried his face in her stomach, nuzzling his nose along the soft flesh covering her ribs. Mara could tell that he was attempting to get her to laugh, to not take things quite so seriously — to perhaps distract her once more — but she couldn't be swayed, not until they spoke reasonably about the situation at hand. "The look on Tywin Lannister's face when you bring home Roose Bolton's handmaiden…" she mused aloud, shaking her head with a slight smile.

"Meaning absolutely no offense, my Lady, as you are indeed a beauty…but I do believe that all of my father's attention will be devoted to the fact that his eldest son no longer possesses his swordhand," Jaime replied.

"And what am I to do in King's Landing?" Mara questioned, tilting her head as she looked down at him.

"Be with me," Looking up at her, Jaime flashed her one of his world famous smiles, but knew full well that she would require some elaboration. "Anything you'd like. You'll never have to work again, you can pursue your passions…hell, take up sword fighting if you'd like." Pressing a kiss to her belly, he whispered against her smooth skin. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'll take care of you."

"I can take care of myself…" she replied slowly, combing her fingers through his hair.

There it was, that same stubbornness that he had grown so fond of. Mara was easily the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms in Jaime's eyes, and sweet as roses and honeysuckle, but there was iron in her soul. As it was, he indulged in that trait more than anything else. It was her stubbornness and intelligence that had drawn him to her; her honesty and kindness. Without it, she would be just another pretty face.

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her collarbone. "All right, then you can take care of me." Hovering over her, he bent his head to brush his lips over her breasts. "You can bathe me, feed me, fuck me…" Taking her nipple into his mouth, he smirked against it. "Tell me how gorgeous I am on an hourly basis…"

"Jaime…"

"Okay, _daily _then. I can work with daily."

Tossing her head back against the pillows, Mara laughed, her soft curls bouncing as she shook her head. "You really are something, Lannister."

Setting all playfulness aside, Jaime looked up at Mara with a genuinely determined look in his blue eyes. "We'll take care of each other."

Deciding that that was one term she could agree on, Mara smiled as she tucked her finger beneath his chin. "Okay."

_"__Okay?" _He repeated in disbelief. "That's it? You're just going to give in that easily?"

"Would you rather I put up a fight?" Sitting up, she pressed him down into the mattress as she climbed on top, straddling his lap. "Because I'm pretty sure I could take you."

Moving his hand to her lower back, Jaime pulled Mara forward, grinning as she squealed with surprise. "You're sure about that?"

"Never been more sure about anything in my life…" Smiling, she pressed her lips to his, smirking into the kiss as their tongues battled for domination.

It was sheer and utter madness; what they were discussing, but at the moment it didn't seem to matter. Deep down Mara felt uneasy at the prospect of going to King's Landing, not only because of who she was, but of who she'd been. Slowly leaning back to look at Jaime, she stroked his jaw with her fingertips, a sensation that he had begun to delight and find comfort in. Taking a deep breath, Mara hesitated as she considered her options. It would be wrong not to confide in him everything about her past, especially in light of the sacrifices that he was willing to make to bring her to his home, but somehow she just couldn't find the words…

_"__Jaime, I need to speak with you at once—"_

At the sudden intrusion, both Jaime and Mara looked up to watch as Brienne threw open the door and hurried forward. Quickly moving from Jaime's lap, Mara pulled the wool blanket over her exposed body.

Suddenly coming to realize what she had just interrupted, Brienne averted her eyes, quickly turning away. "I apologize for my intrusion…"

Clearly annoyed at the interruption, Jaime rolled his eyes. "You know, there's this custom you're obviously not aware of, but it's called _knocking_…"

"My apologies," Brienne repeated somewhat impatiently, her back still turned to the pair. "But this is very important. I need to speak with you alone, Jaime. _Right now_."

Making to get up, Mara stopped when Jaime grabbed her wrist. "Go ahead."

"What I'm about to tell you is something best unheard by…others…"

Attempting to move once more, Jaime slid his arm protectively around Mara's waist as she tried to make for her clothes. _"Jaime…"_

"Give us a moment, Brienne," Jaime commanded.

Briefly hesitating, Brienne nodded her head before exiting Jaime's chambers.

"If she has something she needs to tell you in private…" Slipping from his grasp, Mara picked her underclothes and dress up from the floor and hastily began putting them back on. "I'm not going to pry."

"Anything she has to say to me, she can say in front of you."

Pressing her lips together with her back turned, Mara couldn't help but smile in spite of those words. Leaning down to pick his clothes up, she turned around and tossed them to him. "Well, get dressed then."

When Brienne returned a few moments later, she tried once more to attempt to get Mara to leave, but gave in upon Jaime's continuous refusals. Retelling them both the conversation that she had overheard between Bolton and Locke, she waited for Jaime's reaction.

"You actually heard Bolton refer to my family by name?" Jaime questioned.

"Well, no, not exactly." Brienne admitted.

"So really, this could be anyone Bolton's referring to…" He mused.

"How many spoiled rotten daddy's boys do you think Lord Bolton has a vendetta against?" Brienne spat angrily.

Raising an eyebrow, Jaime couldn't help but become somewhat impressed by her bold words. Alas, what she was saying didn't make sense. "Brienne, I've been a guest of Bolton's for over a week now and he hasn't tried to lay a hand on me. In fact, he's been rather hospitable."

"I'm not going to even begin to understand the motives of a madman, I'm just telling you what I heard. I would expect you to be a bit more attentive to such matters!"

Hesitating, Jaime chanced a glance at Mara, wondering what her opinion on the matter might be. "Have you overheard anything that would lead you to the same suspicions?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I would have told you if I had."

Nodding, Jaime gave her a small smile of reassurance. Of course he knew that.

"Are you honestly going to keep questioning this? This is Roose Bolton we're talking about!"

"She's right…" Mara said slowly. "He's ruthless."

Taking Mara's opinion into consideration, Jaime hesitated. Of course his handmaiden likely knew him better than any, but why would Bolton continue to keep Jaime as a guest if he were planning to lay siege to the Capital? Robb Stark was visiting the Twins with the rest of the northern army, and Bolton didn't have nearly enough men in Harrenhal to stand against King's Landing. No matter how he spun it, Jaime could not make sense of it.

"If you want to keep playing guessing games, be my guest, but I'm leaving now." Brienne didn't care much for the Lannister's, but she did care about her promise to Catelyn Stark. "Just remember, Jaime," Brienne continued in a grave voice. "Nothing's more hateful than failing to protect the ones you love."

With that, Brienne departed, leaving Jaime and Mara to stare after her.

"It doesn't make sense," Jaime began slowly, once Brienne had left. Even so, her words still held an obvious affect on him. "Bolton hasn't been holding me prisoner, if anything he's been encouraging me to leave Harrenhal."

Mulling over Jaime's words, Mara frowned. Honestly, she couldn't think of much of a reason for Bolton to plan such a risky attack either, but Brienne seemed so confident in what she'd overheard. "There has to be an explanation…"

Shaking it off, Jaime stood and began to gather his things. "I can't risk it either way. Can you get a raven to King's Landing?"

Nodding, Mara hurried towards the door. "I know where Qyburn keeps them up in the tower."

"I'm going to ready the horses. Bolton's already shown me where they are in the stables," Crossing the room, Jaime pulled Mara closer. "Gather your things and any food you can manage. I'll take care of the rest."

Touching her hand to Jaime's face, she smiled. "Everything's going to be okay."

Taking hold of Mara's hand, he pressed a kiss to her palm. "As long as you're with me, I know that's true." Giving her a small smile, he nodded towards the door. "Go."

Squeezing Jaime's hand into her own, Mara paused to look at him but then quickly left his chambers, making her way towards the kitchens.

* * *

><p>It was still too early for Tansy and the other kitchen workers to be up, but Mara still made sure to work hastily as she gathered the food. Placing a sack around her shoulder, she flipped through the pantries, loading loaves of bread, hard cheeses, fruits, potatoes, and any vegetables she knew would keep well inside. Quickly stepping over to another pantry, she paused, knowing it would be wasteful to bring anything that needed to be kept cold. Who knew how long it would be until they were able to rest peacefully near a river, or some other cold climate? Moving next to the flagons, she filled several with both cool water and wine.<p>

_"__What you doin' in 'ere?"_

Quickly turning around, Mara cursed as she accidentally turned over a bowl of fruit from the counter. Startled by Rand's sudden appearance, she hesitated, but then quickly sighed her relief. At least it was only Rand, the last thing she needed was Bolton to find her sneaking around his kitchens. "Nothing, just preparing for breakfast."

"Without Tansy?" He questioned, his eyes full of suspicion. "You know well as I do that she don't rise until the rooster does."

Avoiding his gaze, Mara tucked the sack behind her back. "I thought it would be wise to get an early start. Lord Bolton's leaving for the Twins soon…I wanted to prepare for his journey."

"How dutiful of you," he replied sarcastically.

Ignoring him, Mara made to move past Rand when he stretched his arm out to keep her from passing. Narrowing her eyes, she clenched her teeth. "Let me go."

"Why are you in such a rush? You know, you used to enjoy talkin' to me…"

"I never enjoyed anything that had to do with you," she muttered, turning her face in disgust.

"It's interesting that you should be the one given the task to pack for Lord Bolton's journey,"

Keeping her face impassive, Mara waited for Rand to finish his thought.

"When Tansy already packed everything earlier this evening…"

Racking her brain for an excuse, Mara hesitated. "I didn't realize. I guess I should go ahead and put all this away then," Making to step forward, she narrowed her eyes when Rand moved once more to block her way. "Let me pass."

"So you can return to your Lion o' Lannister? I think not." Grabbing Mara's wrist, Rand pulled her close, sliding his other hand down to grip her waist for leverage. "You've been spendin' so much time with 'im, I hardly see you anymore…" With one hand still glued to her waist, he used the other to brush his fingers over the tops of her breasts. "Time to let _me_ see you."

Struggling against him, Mara dropped her sack, beating her hands against his chest. Cripple or not, he still overpowered her easily. "No, Rand, stop!"

Taking hold of her shoulders, Rand slammed Mara up against the counter, causing her to wince as her lower back came in contact with a sharp corner.

"Shut up!" Raising his hand, he slapped her hard across the face.

Seeing stars, Mara became still as Rand lifted her up onto counter, raising her skirts as he began to fumble with the buckle of his pants.

Although Mara had been put into several horrible positions during her time working at the brothel, she'd never had a man force himself on her before, and she didn't intend for Rand to be the one to change that. Taking a deep breath, she slowly regained her composure. "Let me help you with that…"

Startled, Rand hesitated when Mara suddenly began to give her consent, but slowly grinned toothily. "Always knew you'd come round."

Returning his smile with one of her own, Mara reached down to undo his trousers but brought her fist forward instead, slamming it right between his legs.

"FUCK!" Rand sputtered, stumbling backwards, realization hitting him almost as hard as her fist. "YOU FUCKIN' WHORE!"

Taking advantage of his moment of weakness, Mara jumped down from the counter and kicked him in his injured leg.

"Shit!" Crying out, Rand spread his arms in a helpless attempt to keep his balance, but instead only managed to turn over a few pots and pans.

Knowing that wouldn't be enough to keep him down, Mara grabbed an iron pan from the stove and brought it down on his head three times for good measure. With each clang of the pan, Rand's body jerked this way and that before collapsing into a heap on the floor. Breathing heavily, Mara stood for a moment staring down at his lifeless form. He wasn't dead, she'd made sure of that, but he would certainly be out for hours to come. Hastily lifting her sack of food, she quickly left the kitchens and rushed upstairs towards the tower where the ravens were kept.

Unlike many handmaidens, Mara was well versed in both the common tongue, as well as Dornish, high Valyrian, and several other languages. Her mother Alina had been born in a high standing house in Dorne, but had given everything up to be with her father. Alas, Alina had made certain to teach her daughter everything she knew during the cold winter months spent cooped up inside of the farm. Moving through the tower that also served as Qyburn's quarters, Mara tried to remain as silent as she could while hastily searching through his desk for spare parchment and quill. Once finding the proper instruments, she began to construct her letter to Tywin Lannister.

* * *

><p>Taking a few detours along his way to the stables, Jaime grabbed a couple of swords from Bolton's armory, along with some spare clothes and boots he'd managed to find in his size. Bolton was a smart man, but was in desperate need of decent soldiers. Only one man remained duitful, standing watch along the corridors while the others had retreated to drink and whore in a small tavern not too far from the castle. Making his way to the stables, Jaime came to a sudden stop upon hearing a gruff voice that he recognized all too well.<p>

"I'll be back in a few days time," Bolton began as he saddled up his horse. "Keep watch over things while I'm away."

Nodding his understanding, Locke patted Bolton's horse. "Safe travels, m'lord." He finished with a grin.

Returning it, Bolton nodded his head once and cantered his horse from the stables, a group of his soldiers following.

Remaining where he hid behind a bale of hay, Jaime narrowed his eyes as he watched Bolton lead his men out from Harrenhal. Although he was taking a few men along with him, there weren't but perhaps twenty in all. Hardly an army. Again, something in Jaime's gut told him that Brienne's assumptions were off…but then who the hell had Bolton been referring to?

Watching as Locke went to join the other men in the great hall, Jaime looked both ways, making sure no one else remained behind. There were a few horses left, but the one Bolton had shown to Brienne was gone. Of course she'd made off for King's Landing as soon as possible. Part of Jaime was sad to see her go, but he knew that if any woman could take care of themselves on the Kingsroad, it was Brienne.

Moving over to the horses, he loaded his bags, tying them to the saddles so they rested on top of the horse's rear. It would be a long journey to King's Landing, but the thought no longer deterred Jaime as it once had. He would have Mara by his side, and she was all he needed. Bearing that in mind, he finished up with the horses and hurried back towards the castle.

* * *

><p>Sat over her letter, Mara looked up when she heard the door to the towers open. Holding her breath, she clenched the quill in her fist.<p>

"Just me," Jaime said softly, slipping inside and gently closing the door behind him.

Relaxing at the sight of Jaime, Mara let loose her quill.

"Are you alright?" Jaime asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he moved towards her.

"Fine," Nodding, she forced a smile. "I had a bit of a run-in with Rand in the kitchens, but I'm fine."

Eyes widening, Jaime hurried towards her. "Did he…"

"He tried," she replied softly. "He _failed._"

Moving his arms around her, he clenched his jaw. "Where is he now? I'll tear his fucking—"

"It's taken care of," Pressing a finger to his lips to keep him quiet, she whispered. "We don't have time for that anyway."

Moving his hand along her face, Jaime frowned as he saw a shadow of a bruise forming on her left cheek. "I warned that fucking bastard…"

"Shhh," she insisted, pressing a kiss to his lips to silence him. "Here, you need to sign this," Offering the letter to him, Mara handed him her quill.

Quickly looking over the letter that Mara had written to be sent to his father warning him of the possible threat to come, Jaime hesitated. Something still felt entirely off about the situation, but he remained stumped. Whether what Brienne had overheard was right or wrong, it didn't matter. If there was any chance that his family was in danger, he could not risk it. He had to protect what was his.

Taking both the quill and letter from her, Jaime paused with his left hand over the parchment. Just as the sword had felt foreign in his left hand, the quill did as well. Hastily scratching his signature across the page, he was relieved to see that it was legible and somehow managed to look very similar to his right handed cursive. Folding the letter up into forth's, he handed it to Mara who took it and quickly and tied it to the raven's foot before opening the window of the tower.

"How long do you think it'll take for us to get to King's Landing?" She asked, watching the raven as it spread its great black wings and soared out into the night. The bird would no doubt make it to the Capital long before they did.

"A week, maybe two…depending on who we run into along the way." Noting the look of concern in her expression, Jaime pressed a kiss to her brow. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Tilting her head back, she stroked his chin. "We should go, while most of the castle's still asleep."

Nodding his agreement, Jaime gripped Mara's hand and pulled her through the entrance of the towers. Hurrying along the corridors, the two managed to make their way through the castle and down to the stables without being interrupted. The moonlight shone down on them, a small mercy, lighting their way through the darkness as they saddled their horses and left the blasted ruin of Harrenhal behind.

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><p><strong>Shout Outs: <strong>Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with this little story of mine. Every day I check back to see more followers and favorites, and every day I smile. You guys are amazing!

**A/N: **Apologies for not having this chapter up sooner. I've had a really bad cold and been super busy to top it off. I hope to have the next installation up much sooner, but just a head's up; February is going to be a busy month for me. On a side note, how many of you have been binge-watching the Game of Thrones season five trailer that just came out? ***RAISES HAND* **I HAVE! If you notice, I couldn't resist quoting one part in this chapter. Just seemed so appropriate. As always, please drop me a review. I love hearing your thoughts!


	8. Sacrifices

**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Jaime Lannister and Maralynn Thaller, OC. No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from episodes of the series and rewritten to include my OC as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Nina Dobrev and anything else GOT or VD related belong to those parties and those parties alone.

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><p><strong>Sacrifices<strong>

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><p>In a miraculous turn of events Jaime managed to whisk Mara away from Harrenhal during the depths of the night without anyone having noticed. Although it was indeed a small victory, he wasn't naive enough to think his luck would continue on that same path. Roose Bolton was a proud man and would not take kindly to allowing a Lannister to take what was his. <strong><em>His<em>****.** The thought made a muscle in Jaime's jaw twitch. How absurd, to think that Mara was anyone's property. But even as he thought this, a sudden realization occurred to him. There was nothing that Jaime desired more than making Mara _his_. Before, marriage had never been an option for him. Jaime had become a member of the Kingsguard at just seventeen-years-old. His father had frowned upon his decision, as in accepting this role his son had sworn to father no children and take no wife. But none of that had ever mattered to Jaime. He'd never cared about heirs, nor having a wife. The only thing he'd cared about was being with Cersei, and to stay close to Cersei meant being a knight of her husband's Kingsguard. That seemed so long ago to him now . . . as if it had been another life entirely.

In Jaime's new life, he was given a second chance to live as he always should have, with a beautiful young woman who accepted him for who he was and cared for him all the same. Staring at Mara from where he sat a top his horse, Jaime took a moment to revel in her grace and beauty as she rode her snow white mare a few paces ahead of him. He couldn't say why the Gods had decided to choose this time in his life to smile down on him, granting him such a miraculous gift, but he would not spend another second wasting his time questioning it.

"Could you stop staring at my arse?" She commented, glancing over her shoulder at him through the tangle of dark curls that hung loosely in her face.

His lips curved upward at her words. "I make no promises."

Tugging the hood of her cloak to the side, she smirked. "Do you think we're safe yet?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he took in their surroundings. They'd been riding for hours and it had to be well past noon, but he refused to stop until they'd put several leagues between themselves and Harrenhal. "I think we should keep going for another hour or two."

"Well, you can keep going all you want. _I'm _hungry, so I'm going to stop."

"Mara…" He warned.

"_Mara…_" She sing-songed his warning like a mockingbird. Clicking her tongue, she squeezed the horse's torso with her thighs, easing her into a canter as she took off for a long stretch of woods a few paces ahead.

Watching as she glided away on her horse, his eyes widened. _"Mara!" _Following after her, he dug his heels into the sides of his horse, hurrying after her at a furious gallop.

Mara knew it wasn't right, but she couldn't resist having a little fun. After spending so many hours doing nothing but following a trail off the beaten path, it was well past time for some much needed amusement. Once reaching the wooded area, she pulled on the reins to bring her horse to a stop. Leading her over to a nearby stream, Mara dismounted, petting the beautiful animal as she bent her head down to lap up the cool water into her mouth.

"Mara!" Jaime shouted just seconds later, bringing his horse to a stop and leaping down in one fell swoop.

"Nice of you to finally catch up." She commented, her lips turning up at the edges.

"Gods, Mara," he grunted, hurrying towards her and pulling her forward by her waist, guiding her back to her horse. "We have to keep going."

"Jaime, we've been riding for hours!" She pouted, moving her hands to his shoulders. Feeling the heat and shape of heavy muscle beneath his shirt, she took a step closer, closing the distance between them as she draped her arms around his neck, her fingers twining through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Stay with me here, for a little while at least . . . "

Torn, Jaime took in their surroundings once more, but quickly became distracted when he felt her deft fingers stroking the soreness of his muscles. She had a way with him that no one else did; a siren stealing his heart, mind and soul with a few soft words and gentle caresses. "How the fuck do you do this to me?" He murmured, a desperate ache sounding at the back of his throat as he lowered his hand to squeeze her hip.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean . . . " She replied playfully, her dark chocolate eyes alight with the mischief he had so grown to love about her.

Gently nuzzling her nose against his, Mara smirked, but then twirled away before stepping back over towards her mare. Standing on the tips of her toes, she pulled a sack down from the horse's back and began removing a few items. First, taking a flagon of water, she brought it to her lips and took a deep drag before passing it over to him. Taking the flagon, Jaime pressed his lips over the top, tipping his head back as he had a drink himself. His gaze still glued to Mara, he watched as she removed a blanket from her sack and spread it out on a dry patch of grass next to the stream.

"What do women do in King's Landing?" She asked suddenly, raising a curious eyebrow as she smoothed out the back of her skirts before sitting down on the blanket.

"_Do_?" He repeated her question aloud.

"Yes, _do . . . _" she nodded, leaning back against her hands. "You're a Knight of the Kingsguard, you protect the king. Handmaiden's serve ladies . . . so, what does everyone else do?"

Jaime thought for a moment. What _did _Cersei do_? _Apart from drinking, complaining, and bitching about everything he either did or did not do.

"Erm . . . embroidery?" He replied, taking a seat beside her on the blanket. Seeing Mara's disgusted expression, he burst out laughing.

"Not very impressive, hmm?" Moving behind her, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her body to his. Nestling his chin into the space between her neck and shoulder, he pressed his lips to the back of her head. "Don't worry, love. If you end up not being very impressed by King's Landing, I'll be sure to find plenty of other activities to keep you occupied."

Raising a curious eyebrow, Mara smiled, biting down on her lip as she felt his warm breath tickling her scalp. "Such as?"

Grinning in spite of her request, Jaime quickly obliged, pressing his mouth over her ear as he whispered all the things he planned to do to her.

Laughing softly, she nudged him gently with her elbow. "Why wait?"

Smirking, he nodded his agreement, but then suddenly had a thought that kept him from proceeding with his earlier suggestions.

"Just promise me one thing . . . " he began, looking at her from his place behind her shoulder. "Promise me you won't start wearing your hair like the women in the Capital do." Threading his fingers through her long mane of hair, he brushed his nose and lips over her smooth, silky curls. "Keep it like this."

"How do women wear their hair in the Capital?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Jaime moved his hand to her hair and began a feeble attempt at fashioning it in the style that his sister always wore.

"Gods, I don't even need a mirror to know that's awful." Laughing, Mara shook her head back and forth, moving her fingers through her dark brown tresses.

"So, how do you spend _your _time in King's Landing?" Turning to look at him, she tilted her head curiously. "I know being a member of the Kingsguard must be incredibly time consuming . . . " Raising her hands to his shoulders, she slid her arms in around his neck, seating herself down on his lap. "But surely you have a little down time here and there."

"Hardly," He mumbled, cradling her waist in his lap. "Robert made sure to always keep me . . . occupied."

"So there was never anyone tempting enough to distract you from your duties?" She questioned, brushing her lips over his as she spoke.

Closing his eyes at the feel of her lips, Jaime hesitated. There had been Cersei . . . there had always been Cersei, but he couldn't exactly admit that to her. Raising his hand to cup her chin, he pulled her closer. He didn't want to lie to her but he couldn't tell the truth either, so he settled for somewhere in the middle. "There was never anyone tempting enough to make me want to give it up," Pressing his lips to her forehead, he held her close. "Not until you."

Tucking her fingers beneath his chin, she ran the tips along his stubbled jaw then pressed her lips to his in a slow, languid kiss.

Judging by her response, Jaime quickly gathered that he had delivered the right answer. After a few moments spent basking in her glory, he slowly broke the kiss, staring at her with hungry, hooded eyes. "I thought you said you were hungry?"

"Mmm, but I never specified what I was hungry_ for _. . . " Pressing her lips to his once more, she smiled against them whilst her hands plunged into his hair, controlling the depth and angle of the kiss. All too soon Jaime found himself instantly, painfully hard. His senses and coherent, logical thinking had quickly abandoned him the moment that her hand traveled lower to cover the aching outline of his cock through his trousers.

_"__Seven blessings!"_

Looking up from their place on the ground, both Jaime and Mara followed the stranger's voice to find an older gentleman traveling alone through the woods, offering them both a friendly wave. He didn't carry much with him, which meant he was likely close to home.

Quickly realizing what he must have interrupted, the stranger bowed his head in apology. "Oh, forgive me! I'll just be on my way then . . . "

Staring after the man, Jaime swallowed the lump that had begun to form in his throat. He remembered all too well the last time that another traveler had gotten a glimpse of him on the road back to King's Landing, and it had led to his capture by Roose Bolton's men. Had it been his choice, he wouldn't have let the man live, and now that he did have the choice he knew he wouldn't be able to let this man get away like the other one had.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand in greeting, his eyes still on the stranger as he mumbled to Mara from the side of his mouth. "Stay here."

Frowning, she followed his gaze as it landed on the older traveler. By now he had made his way well up the stream, balancing a couple of pails over his shoulders as he went to retrieve some water. Hesitating, Mara looked back to Jaime, realization suddenly dawning on her. "Jaime, leave him be. He won't do any harm."

"_Stay here." _He repeated, his words more forceful this time.

Taking instant note to her reaction, Jaime quickly felt the guilt rising within him like an angry tide. He'd never spoken to Mara that way; never made any demands of her, but the current situation called for it. Gently setting her aside, he glanced away, not able to stand the look of hurt in her eyes as he stood from the blanket and collected his sword.

Hurrying after the man at a steady pace, Jaime waited patiently, watching him like a lion after its prey. Remaining silent, he stalked the man through the woods, keeping behind the trees to shield himself as he observed the traveler following the stream. Setting his pails down, Jaime watched in aggrieved silence as the man began to fill them with cool, fresh water. At the sound of a leaf breaking under the weight of his foot, the man turned around to find Jaime. A look of anxiety quickly flashed across his features, but then slowly began to relax as he recognized Jaime as the man from before.

"My apologies again, sir. I did not mean to offend . . . " He stuttered, his rough, dirty hands shaking slightly as he held them up.

"No offense taken." Jaime said slowly. "What are you doing?"

"Well I live just over that hill there, and this is the freshest stream nearby. My wife's making a stew for supper, you see."

Nodding his understand, Jaime stepped closer to the stream. He took a moment to admire the small home the man kept in the distance.

"Face the water."

"Sir?" The man questioned, his face dropping. Quickly looking for something to say, to perhaps attempt to put himself in Jaime's good graces, the man continued. "I-I'm sure my wife has made more than enough if you and your young lady companion would like to stop for a bite to eat."

Although Jaime could not blame the man in his attempts to distract him, he felt himself growing weary of this conversation. They both knew what had to be done, and he wasn't going to waste anymore time allowing this man to try to convince himself of an alternative. Sheathing his sword from his side, he took a step closer. The old man put up a brief struggle, but within seconds Jaime had him on his knees.

"Sir, please! I-I have a family. P-please . . . "

Jaime took no pleasure in taking the man's life, especially as he began to sob for his wife and children. Burying his sword deep into the man's back, he looked away as the blade pierced his heart from behind, his eyes lowering to take in the sight of the man's blood mixing with the cool water of the stream. The man's body shook in aftershock of the blow, and Jaime held the traveler close to ease him from this life to the next. He'd killed countless men in his days, but had only knowingly taken two _innocent_ men's lives. The first had been his cousin back at the Stark's camp, a sacrifice he'd had to make in an attempt to escape . . . and now this man. He didn't even know his name.

By the time Jaime returned to Mara, he found her waiting for him, her eyes full of concern. Instantly taking note of the blood that had stained the wrist of his tunic, she quickly turned away. Fear thrummed across her skin. "What did you do?"

"What I had to." He replied simply.

Raising her hand, Mara covered her mouth, still unable to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me," he growled, pulling her around to face him. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you and that includes killing. I did what I did to keep you safe and I'd do it again, I may well have to before this journey is over. I need you to understand that."

Jerking away from him, Mara gritted her teeth, her dark eyes full of anger; resentment. She couldn't stand to have him touch her, not after he'd just killed an innocent man — but even more than that she felt guilty; guilty that he'd done what he had to keep her safe. How could she live with herself knowing that the blood on his hands should have just as easily coated her own?

"Don't touch me!" She shouted, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them.

Jaime stared at her in silence, his eyes going unfocused. Her sharp words pierced him. Being with Mara, laughing with her; touching her — it had been the first joy he'd experienced in over a year . . . but she didn't want it, not after what he'd done — not anymore. Suddenly coming to this realization, he smiled slowly, but there was no happiness in it. Eyes drifting back to hers, he nodded. "There it is, there's the look. I've seen it for seventeen years on every face that I pass. Kingslayer . . . Oathbreaker . . . Man Without Honor." A bitter chuckle left his lips — he had to laugh, had to smile to keep himself from falling apart at the seams. "I apologize for deceiving you, my lady, but I was under the impression that you knew what I was all along . . . that you had accepted it. Foolish. I shouldn't have made that assumption."

Taking a deep breath, Mara worked hard to get a grip on his words, as well as her own self control. Swallowing down her agony, she attempted to speak, but could not find the words.

"We have to keep moving," he continued, allowing her no more time to think up a proper response. "I won't lay a hand on you, you have my word."

With that, Jaime turned and walked back to his horse.

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><p>Hours later, Jaime and Mara came across a small Inn. All along Jaime had made sure to steer clear of the main road through their travels, but after their latest encounter he'd taken them even further off the path.<p>

"One room?" The Innkeeper questioned, eyeing Jaime and Mara closely.

Jaime had a feeling that if Mara had her way she'd prefer to be away from him for a time, but the small amount of gold they possessed had to last them for the rest of their journey, and he wasn't willing to spend anymore than he had to, nor was he willing to leave her alone for the night.

"One room, and two plates of whatever was served for dinner." He confirmed sliding over enough coin for supper and lodgings.

"I'm not hungry," Mara replied softly, her arms crossed like a sullen child.

"Oh, little lamb . . . " the sweet old Innkeeper began, moving her thin, papery hand to cover Mara's. "I make the best kidney pie in the North, and you look like you could use a good meal."

Feeling the old woman's hand in her own, Mara instantly felt a warmth that she hadn't felt in ages. It reminded her of being with her Gran, years and years ago before the sickness had taken her. To turn this woman's offer away would be cruel, but she didn't think she'd be able to keep anything down after witnessing what she had in the woods.

"No, thank you." She replied, her tone soft; apologetic.

Looking to Jaime, the older woman narrowed her eyes, as if she already knew that Mara's mood was caused by something that he had done. "Let me show you to your room then."

Nodding her gratitude, Mara glanced over at Jaime once more before following the Innkeeper up the stairs.

Deciding that he would give her some time to herself, Jaime made his way over to the tavern and had a seat by himself at a table. Within seconds a young kitchen wench hurried towards him, filling his cup to the brim with ale. He was one of only a few other men and women left in the tavern, and he knew the young woman likely desired to serve him as quickly as she could so that she could be off to do as she pleased. Staring at the food the serving wench had laid out before him, Jaime tried to find the will to eat, but all he could think of was Mara's words . . . the look of disgust in her deep brown eyes as she pulled away from him in the woods. Would she hate him now that she knew what he really was? Would she finally begin to despise him; to look at him the way others had been looking at him for the past two decades?

"Traveling alone?"

Looking up from his plate of food, Jaime narrowed his eyes as he watched an older blonde woman move to take a seat directly across from him. Leaning towards him, she pushed her breasts forward, making her intentions far too obvious for Jaime's liking. In a way, she reminded him of Cersei. Her hair was golden, eyes a piercing green. There were lines around her face that led him to believe that she'd spent her life smiling and laughing. How interesting, how thoughts of Cersei no longer brought him lust or desire, but something else entirely. More than anything, it made him long for Mara.

Choosing to ignore her rather than humor her, he raised his cup to his lips.

"Poor, lonely man. All's you need is a bit of company . . . " Walking her fingers along the table, she made to move her hand over his but met nothing but the edge of his plate as Jaime jerked his arm away.

"I'm not traveling alone." He stated, gritting his teeth. Pulling away, he stood up from the table, leaving the blonde and his untouched food behind, but taking his flagon of ale along with him.

The entire Inn had grown quiet by the time Jaime ascended the stairs to join Mara in their bedroom. Once inside, he watched her in silence from the doorway, eyes drifting over the length of her figure as she laid on her side, facing the wall. There was a chill in the room that he instantly felt upon entering, and he knew that Mara felt that same coldness as he watched her shiver under her thin blanket. No matter how much closer they had managed to get to the Capital during their day's journey, they were still in the North . . . and winter was coming.

Feeling Jaime's presence, Mara turned to face him. "Jaime . . . " she began softly, gently. She had so much that she wanted to say to him and she'd had plenty of time to think on it. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she despised him just like everyone else. In fact she was quite certain that she could never hate him, no matter what he did.

"Have you heard of wildfire?" He asked suddenly, closing the door behind him.

"What?" She questioned, staring at him in confusion. There was something about the way he staggered forward, something about the way the light in his eyes had suddenly seemed to burn out. It made her want to comfort him, to reassure him that she understood what he was, who he had to become in order to protect them both, but instead she slowly shook her head.

"The Mad King was obsessed with it," He began without breaking stride, moving to the end of the bed. "He loved to watch people burn . . . the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted from their bones." Mindlessly stroking the end of the feather bed, he swallowed. "He burned lords he didn't like, he burned Hands who disobeyed him . . . he burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him."

Mara remained silent, not sure what the point of Jaime's story was, but respecting him enough to give him the time to get there.

"Aerys had traitors everywhere, so he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city . . . beneath the Sept of Baelor, in the slums of Flea Bottom, under houses and stables, taverns . . . would you believe, even the Red Keep itself?" Staring at her, he hesitated, too lost in his story to follow much else. "Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the Capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first, with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels."

Jaime smiled, again, without any joy. "But I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully, but the King didn't listen to me, nor any of his other advisors. The only person he listened to was Grand Maester Pycelle, who told him that he could trust the Lannisters."

Silent as the grave, Mara listened to Jaime's story as he continued.

"So we opened the gates, and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the King, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father's head. Then he turned to his pyromancer . . . _'Burn them all,' _he said."

Swallowing, Mara closed her eyes. She understood exactly what Jaime was saying now — how he was sharing the truth of what had happened the night he'd killed Aerys II Targaryen — the night that had branded him the infamous Kingslayer.

"Tell me, what would you have done? If you were given such an order . . . if you were commanded to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women and children burned alive . . . Would you have done it?"

Although his eyes were on her, Mara knew that this was something he'd needed to get off his chest for years. This was bigger than her; bigger than what had happened between them in the woods. Jaime was making his confession, a confession that was years in the making; something he'd been hiding for nearly as long as Mara had been alive.

"First I killed the pyromancer . . . and then, when the King turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. _'Burn them all,' _he kept saying. I don't think he expected to die . . . he meant to burn with the rest of them and rise again, reborn as a dragon to burn his enemies to ashes." Pausing, Jaime shook his head, gritting his teeth. "I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" She finally asked, her voice breaking as she felt fresh tears rising in her throat.

"Ned Stark, that martyr all you bloody northerners worship, judged me the moment he set eyes on me." Shaking his head, he chuckled bitterly. "Do you think the great Lord Stark wanted to hear my side of things?"

"So you've just lived with this . . . all these years?"

That same sad, desperate smile began to take over Jaime's features as his response. Moving forward, she slid down to meet him on the end of the bed. "Jaime, look at me . . ." Cupping his chin in her hand, she fixed him with her eyes. "You said that you're a killer, but that's not _who _you are . . . it's what you do. You'll never have to become a killer because I'll bring you back from it." Placing her hand over his chest, she took a deep breath as she felt his heart pulse beneath her fingertips. "I will _always _bring you back."

Closing his eyes, Jaime pressed his forehead against hers, savoring her words. He wanted so badly to believe in them, to forget the way that she had looked at him back in the woods; to forget how he had been looked at by everyone surrounding him since he was a teenager. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, trying to suppress the sobs he felt rising in his chest. "You can't want to condemn yourself to that sort of fate."

"Stop," she pleaded. "Look at me . . . come back to me."

Finally bringing himself to meet her eyes, Jaime hesitated but then nodded slowly. He wasn't anywhere near being able to redeem himself for the crimes of his past, but if Mara was willing to accept him, it made the prospect that much more bearable. Taking his face into her hands, she brought her lips to his and once again, the world around them disappeared. Time ceased to bear any meaning as they lost themselves in the give and take of their passionate embrace. Their kiss was slow and gentle but vast, desperate; like a rising tide. It felt like acceptance, like forgiveness. Like peace.

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><p><strong>AN: **Couldn't resist a bit of angsty fluff! One of my favorite parts of season three was Jaime's confession to Brienne at Harrenhal, and since he and Mara have become so close, I thought it would be perfect to rewrite that scene to fit the current storyline. Really sorry that you guys had to wait a bit longer for this chapter, but because it's taken me so long, (sinus infections are pretty much the worst . . . meh) I made sure to make it my longest chapter yet. I'm really looking forward to getting back into this story. I missed these characters so, so much! Never fear, I have much more planned for Jaime and Mara's journey, and even more once they arrive in King's Landing. As always, please be sure to R/R! Your words give me so much inspiration and motivation.


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